Collide
by Dextolan
Summary: In 1986 a series of child murders rocked the lives of many. Aaron Hotchner crossed paths with the Rossi’s after being kidnapped, their own son falling victim. Spencer lost his way. But now, theyre colliding once again.
1. The First Collision

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters) **

**This is totally out of the blue. I was bored. This happened. Also, I just had a totally irresponsible thought telling me to start these stories I've had stored for so long... I'm not sure how I'm gonna update consistently so I'm sorry but I was really excited.**

**Please review, tell me what you think, should I continue writing? It really helps motivate me into writing more.**

**Thank you.**

* * *

**May 8th, 1986**

"Daddy! Catch me! Caaaaatch meeeee!"

David Rossi set his newspaper down, revealing a broad grin he'd been wearing behind it.

He had the day off while his wife worked on her promotion. He felt a little guilty for leaving Jason with the dull agents they worked with, who needed approval for everything, even if that thing was taking a lunch break. He and Jason tried to time their days off together so they wouldn't suffer alone but Dave's son became his biggest priority, so he waved au revoir to their weekly golf meetups and hello to jungle gym and swimming tots.

They still had that game of golf but Dave's wife and son would play their own games off to one side and Jason would help. Spencer always got the chance to hit his ball into the main hole once the adult game was over.

So when Dave looked up and saw his son racing into the living room he couldn't help but smile and wonder how he loved this life he'd been so reluctant of.

"You can't catch me!"

He heard his son call and he smirked, pushing back from the table, the chair legs scratching the tile as his hands came down on the armrests, preparing to lift off when his son gave him some typical Rossi cheek. He expected no less.

"Why won't I catch you?" Dave called back, listening out as his son panted and rolled over the couch, something Rossi knew the sound of and something Spencer had been told not to do after falling on his elbow. The trip to the hospital and wearing a sling didn't seem to deter the kid.

Dave paused, waiting for the kid to roll back off the couch and catch his breath. After a moment the inevitable cheek came into being.

"Because you're an old fart!"

Dave pushed off the arms and hopped out of his seat, laughing as snuffed giggles reverberated from the living room.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that, bambino!"

And Dave was off, he burst through the living room doors and found his target. His son was stood beside the other door, and he squealed when Dave made his explosive entrance, nearly planting his nose into the door as he darted down the hall, screaming all the way.

_Oh, you're going to get it, _Dave thought wickedly as he went back into the kitchen and shot off toward the hall. He nearly intercepted Spencer on his way to the dining room and the boy made a quick U-turn, shooting off up the stairs. His skinny legs bashed the steps, his hands and knees joining the game in a desperate attempt to flee.

But despite the kid's claim, Dave was much faster and he snagged the boy around his waist and threw him back into his arms. Spencer screamed and laughed as Dave trapped him.

He kept laughing as Dave started his false threats. "What did you call me, brat? I don't think 'old farts' would be able to keep up with you, but I can."

"Ahhh! No, daddy! J-joke! Hah- I didn't mean it!" Spencer said through a fit of giggles as Dave carried him to the living room and threw him down on the couch. He began a tickle assault that had Spencer kicking and writhing and his laughter reaching new levels of loud.

"Call me old! You know what 'old fart's' like me eat? Huh? We eat little boys called Spencer!" he said, grabbing Spencer's arm and (with his lips pressed to his teeth) and started to bite the little arm. He licked his lips as he went in for another 'bite' and Spencer giggled and yanked his arm away.

"Ew! Daddy! That's gross! Your tongue's covered in germs!" the boy insisted, wiping his arm on the couch.

Rossi shrugged. "I bet your arm has plenty of germs too."

"No more tickling," Spencer said, putting on his serious face that Rossi could link only to Erin, that cute little glare had his mother written all over it.

Dave conceded and let Spencer sit up, still recovering from his giggles. He sucked in a breath and let out one last laugh before just beaming at his father.

"Are you done being a brat?" Dave asked and back came that frown.

"I'm not a brat daddy... and you're not an old fart... so I'm not a brat, right?"

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that. Course you're not, bambino, you're mummy's angel remember?"

Dave chuckled as Spencer nodded solemnly.

"Yes. What am I to daddy?"

"You're my ragazzino intelligente''

Spencer hopped up on the couch, bouncing his feet into the cushions (_we won't mention that to Erin,_ Dave thought.)

"I know that, daddy! I know I know!"

Dave smiled. Erin had always taken the time and patience with Dave's first language and when Spencer was born she insisted they brought him up as bilingual. It had worked some but Spencer was still learning both and his English was always stronger.

"Go on then, tell me."

"I'm your clever little boy!" Spencer said proudly but then a frown marred his happy expression. "But daddy, I'm a big boy. I'm not little anymore."

"You are."

"No! I've grown to ninety centimetres. I'm not that small," Spencer said indignantly, putting his hands on his hips as he balanced on the cushions. Rossi laughed and pulled the boy down into his arms. God, the kid was like Erin... like David himself too.

"You'll always be my little boy, no matter how tall you get. Even if you get to... seven foot!"

Spencer was giggling again. "That's too tall, daddy!"

"Really?"

"The tallest man ever is seven foot. I don't want to be that tall!"

Dave was about to reply when he heard a car pull in. He grabbed Spencer and whispered, "We better get off your mother's favourite couch."

He swung the boy down onto his feet and followed his clumsy footsteps to the front door just as Erin walked in.

"Mummy!" Spencer cried, leaping up at his mother. She barely caught him but once she had her hands under his arms she heaved him up.

"Oooof, hello angel, I forgot how big you've gotten," she said as she laid a kiss to rest on his cheek and he blushed.

Spencer turned to his father as he subtly wiped his cheek and he smirked.

"See, Daddy! I am a big boy!"

"Right you are," Dave said as he leaned in and kissed his wife. Spencer thrust his head back and his tongue poked between his teeth.

"Gross! Germs!"

"What did you say about kissing exchanging fewer germs than shaking someone's hand?" asked Erin and Spencer shrugged.

"Still gross."

With that, Dave pulled Spencer out of Erin's arms and said, "run." He set him down before chasing after him.

And that was how most of David Rossi's days looked. A smiley breakfast and a story and kiss at bedtime. Dave thought perfection was in the money he craved but after every day he looked into the eyes of his wife and his little boy and wondered if he'd already achieved it.

It was perfect. Dave realised that _after_. They'd been perfect.

That perfection had lasted another week until May 17th, 1986. For three weeks they stayed up and crossed their fingers before bed, waking up with them stiff. After those three weeks a new living hell opened up for the Rossi's.

* * *

**May 22nd, 1986**

Aaron Hotchner hated his dad. Sometimes he believed it was just a teenage phase that his fifteen-year-old self decided to explore but the hatred had blossomed over years.

So when his dad went to the bar again leaving Aaron with Sean and his mother, the teen stepped out to get some air, grateful he hadn't yelled at his father in front of his mother and brother.

Air wasn't enough, and Aaron decided to take a walk.

He was almost past Mrs. Forester's house when he heard the rev of an engine in a small clearing on the other side of the road.

Aaron frowned to himself as he gazed into the thickets of dead weeds and bushes. If a car was stuck up there they were probably going to struggle to get back out.

Aaron glanced both sides of the road before crossing over and striding toward the clearing. He knew a thing or two about cars, his dad pushed it on him and a career in the blasted things was bright in his future.

He got to the clearing and just as he had thought there was a car sat there. It was a bland crimson, a bumper sticker peeling and cracking on the back just beneath a circular dent.

He saw a shape in the front seat so Aaron walked around slowly, his hands still in his pockets, establishing the moody teenager stereotype to a T.

He got to the window and found a pale, gaunt-looking man in the driver's seat. His fingers were long, like a pianist and they held the wheel tightly. The man's sunken face turned to Aaron and he smiled. Aaron felt a chill on his spine and he pulled his hoodie against him.

"Hello."

The man had rolled down his window and he gave Aaron a grey toothed smile.

"Um... hi. Are you stuck?" Aaron asked slowly, still wary of the situation. The man smiled again and pushed open the door with a creaking groan.

"No... but I do need a hand. Come."

The man walked to the trunk. Aaron glanced over his shoulder but decided to follow.

"What is it? I'm a bit handy, but... I'm not that experienced," Aaron confessed as the man wrenched open the trunk.

"The spare wheel," the guy said, pointing down at the trunks flooring. "I can't get the blighter out. Gimme a hand?"

Aaron looked into the trunk and then back at the road. He didn't want to go home yet. Maybe a good deed would cure his mood.

_Oh, what the hell, _he thought and he leaned into the trunk. Just as he was hitching the material off the floor he was suddenly pushed from behind. Aaron tried to catch himself and he landed awkwardly in the trunk.

"Ah!" he cried out at the sudden action. He screamed louder when his legs were stuffed inside too and just as he turned to see daylight he saw the man's gleaming smirk. Then the lid was slammed shut.

Aaron didn't stop panicking as the car jolted with movement. He had two panic attacks before the car finally stopped. A blindfold was wrenched over his eyes as soon as the trunk was opened and he saw nothing as he was led by a firm hand.

He pleaded desperately, not caring how he may sound. He was sure his father would call him a wimp.

When the blindfold was torn away Aaron blinked ahead of him. The room he was in was dark, the only light coming from the door they'd decended the stairs from. He glanced up with narrowed eyes at his captor before he was pushed so suddenly that he flailed and toppled over.

Aaron landed painfully on his side and he groaned, his hands biting into the dust and stone littered on the floor.

He squinted into the darkness as he sat up and rubbed the sweat from his brow. He caught sight of the door shutting above and he huffed.

"The hell was that?" he grumbled, his voice raw from screaming. He heaved himself to his feet and rubbing the spot on his elbow that had connected with the floor. As his eyes settled with the blackness he made out movement.

He stepped back, his shoulders thumping into a wall.

"Hello?"

"It's a new one," someone whispered and Aaron swallowed quickly.

"Where am I?"

There was quiet muttering until out of the shadows a little face came into view.

Aaron frowned. The boy couldn't be very old, three maybe. He was dirty, his clothes covered in gunk, mud perhaps, some spots looked like blood but it was too dark to tell.

Aaron felt less afraid when the kid smiled. He pushed himself off the wall, turning toward the door again. There was a sheen of light peeking under it and Aaron inhaled sharply when a shadow passed by. He moved away from the door and toward the boy. He knelt slowly, his eyes hooked on the child.

"Hi," the child whispered.

"Hi... where are we?" Aaron asked in a whisper and the small boy shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure. I counted it being thirty-two minutes eighteen seconds from the parking lot they took me from... b-but I don't know which direction. I counted some lefts..."

The boy shrugged and Aaron had to shake his head to rid himself of bewilderment. Maybe this three-year-old wasn't three, but a thirty-five-year-old in a child's skin.

If kidnap was truly possible and Aaron had never imagined himself being a victim of it, maybe time travel was too.

Aaron felt his blood grow cold in his veins, a pulsing panic thrumming in his chest. His throat felt tight and constricted and he was almost sure he'd be sick. He'd been kidnapped; this was happening. It was real. The impossible could happen. To him these things only happened to the people in the papers: they happened to people in the writing on the pages, on the front pages of the newspapers, while Aaron and his ordinary life hung off the words in the safety of the white space. It looked like he was going to be front-liner after all. 'Fourteen-year-old boy kidnapped by a weirdo with car trouble.' Aaron swallowed as worse titles came to mind. 'Young boy with mechanic aspirations killed by maniac.' Why had his dad forced him into car repairs? He was going to die with stupid, unachieved life goals. 'Fourteen-year-old's remains found in creepy guy's basement.' Aaron shuddered at the thought

He slid down the wall and sat there looking at the boy as the cold truth sank in and he finally found his words again.

"Okay... um... I-I'm Aaron...Hotchner."

The boy nodded and turned his head towards the door Aaron had come through. Without looking back he said "I'm Spencer. Spencer Rossi."


	2. Fifteen Boys

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thank you for reviewing! It really helped motivate me to write this chapter.**

**Please keep reviewing. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

**Present-day**

Aaron walked into his office and sat down heavily in his chair. He stared at the opposite wall for a long moment before shaking his head.

In three days he faced the anniversary of his rescue. Twenty-two years. Aaron shuddered at the thought. He couldn't remember everything from that time but what he could kept him up for hours. He and thirteen other boys got the chance to live again.

Aaron shut his eyes for a moment, images of each of the boys' faces flashing behind his eyelids. The news still enjoyed to call them 'boys' despite himself boasting the age of thirty-six. The other boys had also grown immensely, except Nathanial who killed himself seven years after the kidnapping.

Aaron opened his eyes and found himself staring at the wall again, as opposed to a basement.

He carefully lifted his briefcase onto his desk and snapped open the locks. He left it that way for some time before pushing open the lid. He pulled out a small sketch pad that had been battered through the years.

He glanced out of his half-open blinds. His team was just starting to trickle in. Except for Reid. Aaron smiled softly, that kid was always in first. He paused and pushed the sketch pad aside, opting for a piece of paperwork left in his tray. He read through it quickly before signing the bottom, approving Reid's four-day leave. The kid needed a break.

Aaron stuffed the form away and turned his focus onto the sketch pad. He sucked in a deep breath and opened the first page. The sketch was poor since his hands had been shaking. But Aaron remembered. The sketch had been drawn twenty-two years ago. He turned to the next page then the page after that, all the same face, but each getting clearer the more he skipped ahead until he got to the twenty-first sketch. There was a note instead, from Haley. Aaron clenched his fists. She'd broken off their marriage later that year. She told him that she couldn't live with his obsession with his job and of finding the guy in every single one of his sketches.

Aaron stared at the sad words of his ex-wife.

'He's gone. He cannot hurt you anymore. We love you, Aaron.'

He was about to pick up a pencil to start a new and hopefully more accurate sketch when he stopped. He blinked slowly and saw his son's sad little face.

He opened his eyes and let them wander to the photo he had on his desk. Jack was one in the photo and he was beaming at the camera.

_God_, Aaron thought, _he reminds me of._.. he shook his head sadly and released the sketch book. The pages fluttered closed.

He had to start realising that the guy who kidnapped him twenty-two years before was never going to be found.

* * *

**May 1986**

Aaron woke up with a start. There was a warm weight on his chest and he jolted suddenly when he saw someone resting there.

An angry grumble followed and Spencer turned his head and squinted at Aaron.

"Oh," whispered Aaron. "Sorry for waking you."

Spencer grumbled something and turned his head back so he could rest it on Aaron again.

Aaron blinked slowly, wondering if he could try and sleep again when the light under the door faltered. Aaron stared at it as something obstructed the light.

"Spencer," he whispered as a scratching escaped from the locked door. Spencer shifted but didn't open his eyes. There was another scratching sound and Aaron sat up suddenly and grabbed the kid on his chest.

"Ow!"

Aaron knew the shadow under the door was a pair of feet and he pushed Spencer behind him, ramming him into a ten-year-old who'd been trying to sleep awkwardly against the wall.

"You hit me," the boy hissed, then his eyes found what Aaron was looking at and he huddled toward them. "It's him."

The other boys were slowly waking and realising that the only light in the room was obstructed. The basement became a beacon of hushed whimpers and sobs from the younger boys and the ones shaking badly.

The door sprung open and Aaron turned away from the guy stood at the top of the stairs. Before he could he saw a nasty looking knife in his hand.

"Evening, boys," he said in a gravelly voice. Aaron looked over at Spencer who was rocking slowly, his eyes blown wide and staring at nothing.

Aaron started to pray in his head, begging the man to not come over.

He thanked god when the man walked to the opposite side of the room.

Sawyer, an eight-year-old who Spencer had described as obnoxious but loyal, and just a little bit off the walls, was still sleeping in a curled position on the floor.

The ten-year-old next to Aaron leaned close to whisper, "meat man's goin for him."

Aaron stared at the younger boy. This hadn't happened yet. Aaron didn't know what the kid meant. What was going to happen to Sawyer?

There was a sudden scream and Aaron felt Spencer tense behind him.

He looked back at the man that the kids had so aptly named 'meat man.' He had Sawyer by the scruff of his neck and the kid was kicking and screaming hysterically.

"No! Help, someone, h-help!"

The other boys stared at Sawyer, quaking for him.

Another boy, one Spencer had told Aaron the name of but which he couldn't remember, stood slowly. "D-Don't hurt him, mi-mister."

Meat man ignored him and lifted the knife to Sawyer's throat. "Sit down," he snapped, yanking Sawyer back with him. The boy scrambled back onto his back side and hid his face in his hands.

All they could do was watch as meat man dragged Sawyer up stairs. The door was slammed shut and the key wrenched through the lock.

There was a harsh, guilty silence as the light under the door returned to normal. The boys glanced around at each other, some of them sniffing. _Fifteen, _thought Aaron, counting them all again. Fifteen including him and Spencer.

Aaron looked over at the door for a moment before wrenching himself around to check Spencer. The boy was staring at him.

Before Aaron could break his stunned silence Spencer suddenly lunged at him, croaking out a sob as he opened his little arms. Aaron let Spencer hug him and press his watery eyes into his shirt.

Aaron just held the kid, his eyes looking blankly at the other boys.

"He does that all the time." Aaron looked at the boy speaking. He looked a similar age to Aaron himself. "I'm Joe, by the way, Joe Roberts. Been here a month."

Aaron nodded. "Aaron Hotchner." He looked up at the ceiling, listening to the screams above pitch up.

"Poor Soy," mumbled the boy who had stood.

An older boy patted him on the back. "It's alright, Nathanial, you were really brave to do that, but you know what meat man's like. Don't look at him and don't speak."

Aaron could tell Spencer wasn't coping and he pulled the kid back.

"Spencer," he whispered.

"That's the third s-since I've been here," Spencer said and he went back to rocking himself soothingly.

"We'll get out of here," Aaron said, not even convincing himself.

"No, we won't." Aaron turned and glared at the boy that whispered it. He recognised him as Wally, an older boy who Spencer had told Aaron about. He was one of the kids who'd been there the longest and he frightened Spencer the first few weeks with stories of how meat man killed the boys.

"Shut up," snapped Aaron, pulling Spencer up into his arms. "How old are you? Thirteen? There are kids much younger than you and far braver, maybe you should stop tearing them down."

The other boys seemed to agree with Aaron so Wally just folded his arms and huffed.

Aaron looked back at Spencer who continued to rock. There were still screams drifting down to them. He put his hands on Spencer's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other.

"Spencer, what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Spencer's rocking slowed a little but he didn't speak so Aaron continued. "My dad wants me to be a mechanic," he said. Spencer looked up at him. "I... I don't really wanna be a mechanic though."

"What do you wanna be?" Spencer whispered, staring up at Aaron with sad eyes. The screaming upstairs went muffled for a moment before growing suddenly in intensity.

Aaron shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. What about you?"

Spencer half smiled until he remembered the sounds of the screams and he ducked his head.

"I wanna work for the FBI," he mumbled. Aaron raised his eyebrows and went to ask more when the screaming stopped.

* * *

**Present**

Rossi stepped inside Erin's office. She looked up from her paperwork and waited for him to shut the door.

"Are you okay-" they both asked simultaneously. Erin smiled to herself and put her pen down slowly.

"I'm alright," Dave said, coming to sit in the chair opposite. "How are you?"

"I've been better, David. I can't believe... twenty-two years-"

"I know." They stared at each other for a long time before Erin broke it and looked toward the blinds.

"Have you spoken to Aaron?"

Dave shook his head. "He never likes to talk about it, but... he struggles."

Erin hadn't known who Aaron was when she employed him, it was only after Dave went over the 1986 case that she realised who the man was, linking him quickly to the fourteen-year-old they'd met many years prior. Erin had invited him over for dinner which had been awkward since she and David were still bitter from their divorce in 1994.

Aaron never spoke of 86 and the basement.

"Well... at least we have each other," said Erin and Dave smiled. They'd rekindled somehow in 2000, not before David had his way with several other ladies. Dave doubted a wedding for the two but Erin had boasted her engagement ring for two years already, he wasn't sure she'd let him wait much longer.

"I'll talk to Aaron," Dave said. "See how he's coping."

* * *

**Late June 1986**

"Spencer! Where is he!?"

The boy's jostled forward, shoving past Aaron as he looked back at the house.

"Go! He'll catch up!"

"He's three!" Aaron tried to push back in the direction of the house but a hand stopped him.

"He will have to catch up, mate. When meat man figures we're gone-" Joe took a deep staggering breath and shook his head. He looked back up at Aaron. "We have to go."

* * *

**Present**

"For the last time, I'm not going to talk about it."

Dave sighed heavily and pulled the pamphlet back from Aaron. "It would help. And then... maybe I could understand-"

"No. What is there to understand? I gave my statement twenty-two years ago. You read it. What more do you want to know?" Aaron had his frown set firmly into place as the older man slowly folded the pamphlet, his eyes cast downward.

Aaron shifted a little uncomfortably, waiting for the Italian to speak.

"I want to hear it from you, Aaron. I want you to tell me, I don't want to read it."

"You think you understand this all? Because I'm sorry to say, Rossi, you've no idea-"

Dave turned his head suddenly, his eyes wide with imploreing. "Then make me understand," he said, his voice low and tight... and desperate.

Aaron grit his teeth together then and met David's eyes. "I will never talk about that night. Especially not to you." He was a little taken aback by his own words as was Dave who blinked at him and stood up slowly from his chair. Aaron dropped his head into his hands and pulled them down his face.

"Look, Dav-"

Rossi held up a hand to stop him. He looked at him with shining eyes. "I can understand one thing, Aaron," he whispered coldly. "You came home that night. My son did not."

Aaron felt something akin to nausea swirl in the pit of his stomach and he looked away in shame.

"It was my boy killed that night, my son. You owe it to me... to him to tell me about that night." Dave turned his head toward the door as tears started to roll off his cheeks.

He took a step forward as Aaron watched guiltily. "But you're right. I will never understand. I'll never understand how a three-year-old child couldn't fit through the very same basement window that a fourteen-year-old could. Nor will I understand how thirteen other boys got out while my son was left behind."

Dave snapped his head back sharply, his eyes wet but fierce with anger. He pulled open his clenched teeth, his lips turned back in a snarl. "And I'll never understand how, twenty-two years later my boy's killer _still _hasn't been found."

Aaron looked down at his desk. He waited until the door slammed shut before looking up again. His gaze soon fell upon his sketch book and he felt his fist clench.

"I'm gonna find you," he hissed. The room hummed with silence as Aaron's fist grew tighter. "For Spencer."

* * *

**Ooo, what happened down in that basement? All I can tell you is that the next chapter is going to get emotional.**

**Thanks for reading. Please review! It would mean a lot to me.**

**See you soon.**


	3. Lost Boy

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thank you to Jesuslover123, white collar black wolf, Criminal Minds Queen, Caroliny Hotchner, sherryola, Guest, Rookblonkorules, fishtrek, ZelofhedaB, thescribblerdragon, and Autxmnal Rain for reviewing last chapter. **

**If it gets confusing let me know and I'll try and rearranged some things o you guys have a better read.**

**Please review.**

**Enjoy.**

**Present**

* * *

Spencer waited for his plane with a horrible feeling swirling around his stomach. He hated June. And what made it worse was that his father called him home nearly every June.

Spencer wasn't naive. He fully understood that what his father had done to him during childhood was wrong. The belts, the closet...

Spencer handed over his boarding pass, a lost look in his eyes at the very memory of it all.

He knew that he could come forward now and have his father arrested... except, his father was a lawyer with many friends in the same field. And his mother was sick. If he sent his father to prison she'd go to the closest institution. Spencer knew that. And his father liked to remind him too.

William also liked to remind his son of his real name.

Spencer took a seat to wait for his plane to board. He may be an FBI agent but his father wasn't afraid to still lay his hands on him.

When his flight was finally called Spencer got up. He gave over his pass and the lady smiled.

"Welcome aboard, William," she said, handing it back as Spencer lowered his head.

That was another thing his father controlled. Why was he cursed with the same name as the man he hated? Save for the 'Jr' part. He'd asked countless times to just change it to his middle name but William forbade him.

His mother called him Spencer (not in front of William of course,) always stating how she hadn't wanted to name him after his father.

Spencer had thought he'd managed to defy his father when his colleagues recognised him as 'Spencer', that was until David Rossi joined the team. Spencer knew all about the guy and the fact that the man's son had been called Spencer before he was killed. So to Rossi, Spencer was just 'Reid' and the young man had never called himself Spencer in front of him. He was William Reid Jr.

* * *

Dave sat in his office, nursing a tumbler in the warmth of his palm. He held a miniature close to his chest, refusing to pull it back to see the happy face captured upon it. In two days he'd be going to the place they'd buried that once happy face.

He felt guilty for what had happened with Aaron. Grief had stolen his heart and his temper as it had so many times before. He meant to apologise but he was letting himself be selfish.

He sat like that for a good half an hour. Finally, he glanced down at the drop left in his tumbler and sighed. He stood, a little shakily from his chair and staggered toward the window.

"Screw it," he mumbled, turning the glass upside down and letting the amber liquid melt into the soil of a potted plant, left withering on the window sill. He set the glass heavily beside it and watched as the soil moistened. Without looking at it, he buried the picture he'd been holding in his front pocket, setting a personal reminder in his head to take it out before Erin put it in for laundry.

Dave turned towards his blinds and squinted through them. He could just make out Morgan and Garcia in the bullpen. He was about to go back to his own desk when he saw Hotch out with them.

He huffed and patted his front pocket. He was going to have to swallow his pride for this.

* * *

"I hate when he goes home."

Morgan shook his head angrily as his eyes passed Spencer's desk.

"He gets to see his mom," mumbled Garcia. She looked at the empty desk too and poked Derek's arm. "What's really eating you?"

Derek grabbed the hand poking him and pulled on it to turn his chair around. When he was facing Garcia he pressed his lips together.

"I don't like the kid's dad. You've seen how miserable he is when he comes back or when he leaves. And his dad, well the dude profiles as a narcissist, I mean Reid is named after the guy for Christ sake. A-and I've seen how Reid flinches-"

"Derek."

Morgan looked up and saw the way Garcia was watching him anxiously. She shook her head. "You know we can't profile each other."

"There isn't a rule-"

"We don't need one, it's bible here."

Derek rolled his eyes. "We can't help doing it, baby girl. And I worry."

They both stopped talking when Aaron walked by. He stopped and glanced their way.

"Have you heard anymore on the Newton case?" he asked. Garcia sat up a bit straighter and nodded.

"They caught her on CCTV and were able to get a match. Strauss..." Garcia glanced over her shoulder then looking back at Aaron said. "She's been handing our cases to the other teams, sir."

"That's fine. We'll just finish off paperwork until next week."

Aaron nodded in agreement of himself as Garcia gave the files on Morgan's desk a wistful glance. Morgan's eyes flickered from Hotch to something behind them and he nudged Garcia, turning his own chair away. Garcia saw Rossi too and she hopped off the desk and leaned over Morgan to fiddle with his computer.

"Look, just enter the jpg number and..." her voice faded as she pressed a few keys, listening in on the conversation behind them.

Aaron had turned around and he nodded at Rossi as he walked cautiously passed Reid's desk, careful not to knock any books over. Aaron could tell the older man was tired. Not from the deep circles looping below his eyes, or the sluggish way he carried himself, it was the slightly untucked shirt and the half pulled up collar. The typical David Rossi dressed impeccably. So Aaron softened his expression when the Italian stopped in front of him.

"Aaron," he mumbled, looking into his superior's eyes for a moment then looking away and reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. Aaron just waited patiently for Dave to drop his hand. He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"You're profiling me aren't you?" he muttered, his voice slightly grated as if he'd been shouting... or crying.

"I don't mean to," Aaron deadpanned.

"Perks of the job. Look, Aaron, I-"

"It's fine, Rossi."

"No, I was-"

"You don't have to say anything."

Dave shook his head and reached out to put his hands on Aaron's shoulders. Aaron continued to watch the guilt streaking across Rossi's face.

"No, I do. I was out of line yesterday. I'm sorry."

Aaron raised his hand and gently took one of Rossi's hands from his shoulder and just nodded.

"It's fine, Dave. I understand."

Garcia exchanged a tenuous look with Derek. They waited for the conversation to end before relaxing.

"I have an idea," Garcia said, leaning close to whisper it in Derek's ear. He gave her a doubtful look and she budged his arm.

"It's a good one... and with the ... the anniversary, you know, it'll be good, trust me."

* * *

**June 1986**

Dave stood anxiously with his wife. Thirteen boys had been found. _Thirteen_! His son was among them, he just knew it. Jason was knee-deep in analysis on the killer still while Dave had taken a giddy Erin to the station where they were told to sit and wait while they got the boys.

It was two hours before the boys were allowed to see their parents. Something about questioning. Dave waited angrily, his fists curling tighter against his knees as the time wore on. Spencer was probably traumatised and they were still making him talk. He needed his mother and father more than the police needed answers.

Dave stood suddenly when the doors down the interrogation room corridor opened. Erin followed her expression a mix of nerves and excitement. She grabbed Dave's arm and squeezed.

"We're going to take him home," she whispered.

Dave watched the door open and an officer holding it. There was a cry of delight as the first boy, no older than ten, stepped into the room and spotted his family.

Erin and Dave watched with pleasant smiles as his father ran forward and threw him into an embrace.

"Oh, Dave," said Erin, her nails digging further into her husband's forearm. He glanced at her with an excited smile.

"How many bedtime stories do you think I'll be reading tonight?" he whispered. Another boy dashed in and Dave beamed over at him before looking back at Erin.

She winked. "All of them. Oh- look, they're all coming, let's move closer!"

Dave chuckled and held Erin back. "We'll see him," he said, letting the thirteen boys flood in.

The stragglers came through the door and still, the Rossi's waited for their son. Their smiles faltered slightly when the thirteenth boy, a teen, stepped through the door.

Dave stared at him for a moment. _There must be a mistake,_ he thought. He glanced back and counted the boys again. He could feel Erin's grip grow loose and her smile was turning down.

"David?" she murmured staring at the door as it swung shut slowly.

"Where's our son?" Dave mumbled, looking around at the boys in the room again and having to listen to the happy cries of their parents.

He turned to Erin, his hands shaking harder while she stared at the door blankly.

"Where's our boy?" he whispered. Erin shook her head and started to cry. Dave looked around frantically. The sheriff came into the room and after seeing Dave's panicked expression, he shook his head sadly and started to walk over.

Dave rasped and backed into his wife. "Where's my son!?"

The sheriff got to the couple as Rossi wrapped his arms around his sobbing wife and whispered that they'd made a mistake.

"Agent Rossi, Mrs. Rossi, I'm so sorry-"

"No!" Dave yelled and he covered his wife's ears as she started to slowly sink to the floor.

The sheriff put a hand on Dave's shoulder. Some of the other parents and boys were looking their way. The ones who weren't looking or wearing sympathetic looks were holding each other, some were wailing, others were arguing with officers. They were in the same situation.

"Please, Sir, your son... there was a body found inside after the fire, there are also bodies buried from other missing children. We believe your son is amongst these victims. I'm... so sorry."

Dave didn't want to hear it, he held Erin as tight as he could, her legs still unable to hold her up.

"No! No, please, look again. He's three, he ha-has curly blonde hair, b-b-but not too curly... a-and it's starting to g-go brown. He was wearing odd socks. Go back, you'll find him, he's... so special, you wouldn't miss him. He's smart too, please he's not dead, please."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Dave felt himself joining his wife on the floor as she wept.

"No, no not my little boy. NO!"

Erin's hands leaped up to Dave's face and she screamed again. "David! David!"

"Shhh," Dave whispered as he held onto his wife, keeping himself steady as he started to cry. Erin held in a raspy breath before sobbing loudly.

"It ca-c-can't b-be my baby!"

There were more screams too, of the parents who hadn't seen their children yet either.

"Spencer!"

* * *

Aaron Hotchener was exhausted when they finally let him see his parents. He walked out last letting the other boys run and grab hold of their parents. He sauntered in and saw his father. He saw the man's face rise into a relieved smile and then he opened his arms. Aaron stared at him for a moment and he suddenly felt a tear roll down his face. He walked to his dad who pulled him into a hug.

"Dad?"

"Aaron, thank god, thank god!"

"Aaron! Oh, sweetheart! You're okay? You're okay, right?"

His mum grabbed his face and started to pepper him in kisses. Aaron laughed and nodded.

"Yea, I'm fine, I'm alright."

Sean was there too and he hugged Aaron so tight that his breath huffed out.

"Rodney said that you'd be dead," he whispered into Aaron's shoulder. He pulled back a little and Aaron shook his head.

"That guy's an asshole, he doesn't have the brain cells to make that assumption."

"Let's go home. We can have takeout tonight, hows that, Aaron?" his father asked and Aaron couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face.

"That sounds great."

The family smiled at each other with relief.

"Where's my son?"

Aaron's father turned toward the yell across the room. He grimaced when he turned back. "Looks like some weren't so lucky," he mumbled.

Aaron looked over at the man and woman next to the sheriff. The woman wasn't standing right and the man had tears rolling off his chin.

He watched them both sink down and start to sob.

"My little boy... not Spencer, please, he's just a baby!"

Aaron felt his throat stick. Those were Spencer's parents. Those were Mr and Mrs Rossi. Aaron had let their son die. His friend.

"Aaron, honey, let's go," his mother whispered but Aaron didn't move.

"I-I knew their son," he said. His father turned to him.

"What's done is done. You're alive, son, that's all that matters to us."

Aaron sucked in a deep breath as he watched the parents hold each other, whisper to each other. "He... we had to leave him," Aaron mumbled.

"Aaron, let's go."

"He was only three."

"Aaron, come on, leave them to grieve."

The BAU. Aaron heard it echo in his mind. 'My daddy works in the BAU. It's in the FBI! My mummy is in the FBI too, she's in an office job. I wanna work there one day, t-they analyse the behaviour of criminals and put them in prison! They save people, Aaron. I want to save people too.'

Aaron thought about cars. A car had gotten him into this mess. He didn't want to work in the car industry. He wanted to save people. Just like Spencer did... had. Next time he'd save someone like Spencer.

"Spencer saved us," Aaron said finally. He realised suddenly that he'd been walking and that he was stood before the Rossi's. Spencer's father looked at Aaron, his face red and wet.

"What...?" he rasped and Aaron sucked in a breath.

"Your son saved us," he said again.

Spencer's mother blinked up at Aaron and she smiled weakly.

"He did?"

Dave touched Aaron's arm and he started to sob again.

"That's our boy," he said.

"Aaron! Come here! Leave them alone!" His father jogged over and pulled Aaron back. "I... I'm so sorry... for your loss."

Dave looked at the floor and covered his mouth.

"Your sons a hero," Aaron said quietly and Dave looked into his eyes and Aaron swore he saw something fond twinkle there. He let his father pull him away then.

Aaron didn't speak for a day after that. His head was filled with the BAU.

* * *

**Present**

"Lay another hand on me and i-it's as-assault on a federal agent!"

Spencer stepped away from his father. William was glaring at his son, a look of disgust on his face.

"You really do make me sick."

"This is why I don't come home, mom." Spencer turned to his mother and shook his head.

William reached down and grabbed one of Spencer's letters to his mother. He'd neatly arranged them all to throw at Spencer when he arrived.

"You sign your name wrong, every god damn time! And who's this you keep talking about? Morgan this, and Derek that-"

"He's my co-worker... h-he's a friend," Spencer said as William wrinkled his nose. Spencer stood limply as William flapped around the letter.

"I didn't raise a fag," he hissed coldly and Spencer glanced at his mother for help. She turned her head away as William drew closer to Spencer, the letter smushed in his grip.

"I'm not gay, dad. And if I was, my sexuality wouldn't be any of your concern."

"Spenc-Will, you... um, you _are_ more on the sensitive side. Your father is right to have suspicions."

Spencer turned to his mother and just blinked at her, there wasn't anything more he could do. She looked down, her eyes searching around her bare feet.

His father smirked then and raised a letter he'd already torn. "And who's this David Rossi guy?" he asked. William knew exactly who David was; it scared him that his son was so close to the man.

Spencer shook his head and met his father's fierce eyes. "He's another co-worker."

"So you like older guys now? Not _just_ guys, but the _older_ ones too? You really do disgust me, boy. In fact, I don't want you calling yourself my name if you whore yourself out to men."

Spencer snapped then. He stepped forward and snatched the letters from his father's hand, being sure to drag his nails across the backs of his father's fingers. "David Rossi is my co-worker but since you like to analyse all my relationships you could say he's like a father to me. A better one than you have or will ever be!"

"William!" Diana gasped, reaching out to grab Spencer. Spencer was the same height as his father and he glared at him, eyes at the same level.

"Don't call him that, Diana, he disgraces my name," said William. He didn't look at his wife, instead stepping forward menacingly.

Diana looked at Spencer as if he was someone else, her eyes filled with contempt. Spencer stared back at her then at his father who was troublingly close, his hand gently smoothing the bloody nail-marks left by Spencer.

"You should have died when they said you did," mumbled William, his voice cool as water. Spencer frowned lightly and glanced at his mother who was looking away with tears in her eyes. He looked back at his father just as the man threw a fist his way. Spencer went straight down.

William Reid looked at the young man on the floor for a moment. Spencer wheezed and his father silenced him with a quick kick.

He turned to Diana who was still looking away.

"I'm bored," he said plainly, stepping over Spencer. "It's been a long time, Diana. I deserve a break."

Diana looked down at Spencer before hurrying after her husband.

"William?"

"Let's have some fun? Like in the good old day?"

Diana shook her head suddenly.

"We can't."

"Why?"

"We're... we moved on from that. Do you want to be caught?"

William smirked and he glanced back at his son. "I'm very careful."

"D-don't... please William, you said I could keep him-"

"That was a long time ago. Did you really think I'd want to associate that with my name?"

Diana turned her gaze down to cover her tears. William watched her with a sad smile and he sighed.

"Alright," he whispered, l;lifting Diana's face up. He kissed her lightly. "I won't kill him. I'm just going to play some games."

Diana looked alarmed and William soothed her with his fingers stroking down her cheek.

"Not with him. Someone even better. You kept his teeth right?"

* * *

**Please review.**

**Next chapter up as soon as I can write it.**

**See you soon.**


	4. Loose Teeth

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**I am back and with another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy.**

**Please review.**

**(Revised 3rd April 2020)**

* * *

"Erin! Doorbell!" Dave pushed the suds from his eyes and listened for a moment. He heard a loud chatter from the hall and assumed it was Erin and the mailman. Since they'd gotten the guy a malt whiskey for Christmas they could never seem to take their mail without some kind of conversation.

Dave shut off the water and stepped out of the shower onto a cautiously placed bath mat. He dried off quickly and drew on his dressing gown. He shrugged it over his shoulders and glanced at his partial reflection in the steamed mirror. He grumbled at the hard wrinkled looking back at him and the years of pain etched in the skin. He turned away from the mirror and opened the bathroom door, releasing the steam from the cramped room.

When he walked into the kitchen he found Erin fully dressed, sitting at the table with a slice of toast in her hand. On the table was her half-empty mug of coffee, a rack of toast, and a crumpled looking package.

"Morning," mumbled Dave as he sat down and took a piece of toast of his own. He quickly smothered it in butter and took a bite nearly the width of the toast itself.

Erin set her own piece down and motioned to the package.

"Did you order something on amazon again?" she asked, one of her eyebrows quirked suspiciously. "I know it's convenient but-"

Dave raised his hand to stop her. "Haven't been on there in a week." He both loved and hated how much they were sounding like an old couple.

"Oh." Erin glanced at the package. "It's for both of us."

"Want to open it?" Dave slid his butter knife toward Erin and she sent it back his way.

She lifted her crumb speckled plate and shook her head. "I've got to clean this up. It's probably for you anyway."

Rossi took another bite of toast as he watched Erin walk to the sink. He dusted off his hands after his shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. He took the butter knife and ran it across the tape sealing the box shut.

He pulled the box open and squinted down. Erin glanced over her shoulder and frowned when Dave pulled out a second box, wrapped totally in dusky brown paper.

"Hmm," mumbled Rossi as he turned the second box on its head and pressed his head close to it. Erin, who was now watching closely, braced her hands against the counter.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked. Dave pulled the box from his ear and shook his head.

"I don't think so."

Dave very carefully sliced through the brown paper, pulling it away from the box it had been wrapped around. He looked up at Erin who was staring back at him with a look of concern. Gently Dave lifted the lid of the box and he sighed in relief.

"What?"

"There's just a bag." Dave pulled out the small bag with little embroideries around the base. It was bunched together and tied off with a string.

"That's... sweet," mumbled Erin, still unconvinced.

Rossi started to loosen the string. He had no idea what the thing inside could be or how it could be for the both of them.

He dropped the string back into the box and peered into the little bag. He paused when he caught a glint of what was inside.

"What?"

He squinted and shook his head lightly.

Erin leaned over to try and get a look. "What is it?"

Dave looked at her with a scowl and he lifted the bag up to the light. After a moment he upended the bag on the table, letting the things inside fall out.

Both he and Erin leaped back from the table when five tiny, milk-white teeth clattered out of the bag.

"What is that!?" Erin's voice was high and shrill. She panted heavily as she gaped at the teeth. Dave stared openly, his mouth parted and rough puffs of breath leaking out.

"David!"

Dave looked up at his wife then back at the teeth. "I think... they-"

Erin shook her head violently. "No. No, don't say it!"

Dave shut his mouth and looked down at the baby teeth on the table. There were old brown marks of blood marring some of them.

"Oh god, who sent them."

Dave grit his teeth. "He did. That... monster."

"We don't even know t-that t-th-they're his..."

"You know they're Spencer's," Dave said incredulously.

Erin shook her head. "We should check. I-I'll send them to the lab."

"They're Spencer's, Erin."

"Stop it."

"And that man... the one who did this, he's still out there."

* * *

**August 15th 1986**

Erin pushed the eggs around the saucepan, barely giving them time to sizzle. She paused upon hearing the shower turn off. She listened as he husband opened the door and shuffled down the hall, his footfalls barely audible.

Erin turned off the ring and moved to the kitchen table. She'd set three places again. She dropped the pan on the counter and clutched her face. Scolding tears peppered her palms and she dragged in a deep breath.

"He's gone," she whispered. She walked numbly to the table and without entirely feeling the cold metal, she removed the knife and fork from Spencer's place. She pushed the mat into the middle, hiding it under a slowly fading vase of flowers.

When she managed to put the extra cutlery away Dave was there. He looked from the disregarded pan to the cutlery in Erin's hand and the lost look in her eyes. He sighed and walked toward her, his hands resting on hers as she shut the drawer.

"We don't have to go to work today," Dave whispered, pressing his face against Erin's neck.

Erin turned and looked at her husband as seriously as she could with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "You have to find him," she whispered, putting her hand against Dave's chest.

Dave pulled Erin into another hug. He stared at the opposite wall where a photograph of Spencer hung. It was taken at daycare, with Spencer laughing at the camera as he stacked blocks. Dave squeezed his eyes shut. "I promise I'll find whoever did this."

* * *

Dave stared at the blank wall in his office. He knew they were his son's teeth. They found three teeth after the fire. The body was burned to nothing but the teeth had been removed antemortem and placed in a small safe. There were two teeth found in the safe for every murdered child. Dave remembered looking at the evidence and finding his son's first baby-teeth in the box. They were the smaller teeth in there. Dave remembered watching them grow in, cuddling his boy when they pushed through and he was sobbing and knowing anything he could find.

The bodies were missing all their teeth. Dave always knew the sicko had kept the rest.

Dave stood up suddenly when he saw someone through his blinds. He went to the door and opened it as an older man stepped forward.

"David."

"Richard, how are you?"

The man half-smiled and walked into the room, letting Dave shut the door behind.

"Back pains getting worse but what can you do. Nothing cures age."

"Ain't that the truth," Rossi muttered, coaxing the gentleman into a chair. He glanced at his blinds and saw Erin making her way over. She was walking with flustered steps but she tried to appear natural before the bullpen.

Dave let her in and shut the door behind her quickly.

Erin went over to the man with a frantic expression.

"Well?" she asked. "Were they his?"

Dave put a hand on Erin's shoulder and guided her down into a chair.

Richard sighed inwardly and opened the envelope he'd been holding.

"I compared it to the dental records your son had back in... 198...5."

He licked his thumb and pulled out a piece of paperwork from the envelope. Erin snatched it up as he fumbled for the other. Dave leaned against her to read as she did, her hands shaking the paper and blurring the words.

"The teeth must have been well kept. I could conclusively match them to Spencer's."

"Oh god." Erin looked up at the doctor, her hand rising to clutch her mouth. He pulled out a few more bits of paperwork and held them up for Rossi. Dave took them numbly.

"You're sure. It's been... Richard, that was back in 1986, he's kept them since then. They're definitely Spencer's?" he whispered.

"I didn't want them to be his but they were a match. I think you might want to reopen the case."

Dave closed his eyes. "It was hell the first time."

"And with him still out there the hell never ends. Do me a favour, David, next time you send something down to the lab, make sure it's that son of a bitches corpse."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**

* * *


	5. Cold Case

**((Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Here's the update, I hope to bring you more soon.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

Spencer woke with a painfully tight knot pulsing behind his eyes. He lay on the bed for a moment, his teeth gritted together as he wished away the pain. While he lay there he remembered his father's violence and he groaned.

It wasn't the first time his father had knocked him unconscious. Nor was it the first time for him to wake up in his old room with no recollection of getting there.

Spencer sat up slowly, hissing as the throbbing behind his eyes intensified to a fierce drum roll.

He squinted around the room, finding it bare as always. He stood, clutching a bed post for support while he worked feeling back into his limbs. His shoulders ached as did the small of his back which stung sharply each time he stretched. Spencer winced but tried to ignore it as he shuffled into the hall. He looked down at his feet and found his socks looking back at him. He grimaced: he hadn't changed those socks in days now. He was also still in the clothes he wore when he first got back, but the socks irritated him more.

"Mom?"

Spencer padded down the corridor to his mother's room. She didn't share with his father, hadn't since Spencer was ten, but he regretfully still saw the lust they had for one another, hungry in their eyes. It was something Spencer didn't want to figure out.

He paused outside his mother's room. There was a tapping coming from behind the door. Spencer pressed his ear close, careful not to push it open. It didn't sound like she was having an episode. She wasn't talking to herself.

Spencer gently pressed his palm to the door, letting it open wide enough for him to step inside.

He was about to call his mother's name again when he saw her. She was sat on the floor, crouched awkwardly. Her hands were carefully moving things around on the wood, her eyes fixed on them.

Spencer stepped closer and watched his mother slowly arrange photos, gently placing some on top of others and filling the empty spaces on the floorboards.

Spencer strained his neck to see and caught sight of himself as a young boy. He was wearing a half smile, his front teeth showing a little, his eyes were red. He was at least seven in the picture, his teeth were doing well, he remembered the feeling of not having many inside his mouth but luckily for him he'd grown his adult teeth out quick. His mom had gotten him a poorly-fitting pair of dentures when he was younger since his first set of teeth had fallen out so prematurely.

"Thirteen."

Spencer looked at his mother as she swayed a little. She hummed something without a tune and nodded. "Or fourteen?" she said.

"Mom?" Spencer's voice shook as he spoke and he unconsciously stepped back when his mother's neck twisted back and she stared at him. Slowly her lips curled into a smile and she patted the floor beside her.

"William, honey, sit by me."

"It's... _alright_," Spencer said, not bothering to correct her. She usually called him Spencer; she knew he preferred it. He assumed she _was_ having an episode.

He walked over and carefully knelt down. He looked over the photos with a grimace. There were plenty of his father, each very serious, his father never smiled in them. The rest were of him with a sprinkling of his mother. He wasn't smiling much in any of them. In fact, the earlier ones he seemed to be crying.

Spencer squinted at them and saw that in every single one he had tears in his eyes. His mother had told him he was a difficult toddler. Spencer didn't remember. Or couldn't.

He turned to look at his mother and found her eyes on him. He blinked at her and licked his broken lips. "He hit me, mom," he murmured. His voice cracked and he looked away. His mother was still smiling.

"Oh, I know."

Spencer dropped his head and closed his eyes. He remembered Morgan telling him what he had to do. He'd given Spencer a lesson on standing up for himself and damn it, he could do it.

"I-I... won't..." he swallowed hard. "Mom I can't come back again. This is the last time," he said. He let out a deep breath and felt his anxiety trickle away slightly.

Diana studied him for a moment before reaching forward and rearranging the photos.

"Okay, sweetheart," she said.

"I'm sorry, mom. It's not you."

"It's fine. You're father already decided."

"He... what?"

* * *

Dave took a deep breath before he reached forward and opened the door to the conference room. The team were already gathered there, waiting for him.

Dave offered them a half-smile, handing out several files before sitting down.

"Sorry for taking so long," he muttered, he glanced at Aaron as the younger man opened his file and instantly turned his head away.

"I have a cold case I'd like to revisit and-"

"No," Aaron said, dropping his file on the table. "I understand you want this man found, Rossi, but it's been twenty-two years. I can't keep 'revisiting' this. We have to accept that we won't find him." He stared at Dave as the Italian calmly nodded.

"Have you really accepted that?" he asked after a long pause. Aaron was taken aback by the question. He looked down at Emily's open file and saw a photo of Sawyer Robinson. Aaron remembered Meat- _the unsub _taking the boy away. He never saw his face again until the case after.

Aaron didn't attempt to speak so Dave cleared his throat and started talking again. "I have reason to believe this unsub is active again, or at least is moving around within the public sphere. We have better technology, better agents, I really believe we have a good chance of finding this guy."

Garcia gathered her laptop under her arm and stood up. "What do you need from me, sir?"

Rossi looked up at her before a small smile graced his face. "I'd like to discuss the case a bit first, I'm sure there will be something for you to dig up then."

Garcia nodded slowly and retook her seat, setting her laptop down but giving Dave her full attention.

"Shall I call, Reid, we could use his brains on this," Morgan said, already half out of his seat.

"Sure, the more brains the better."

Morgan got up, pulling his phone out as he stepped into the hall.

Aaron pulled his hand from his face and shook his head. "No," he said. "Reid's having family time. We barely have any time like that, we'll do fine without him."

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "So you'll help?"

"If your reason to 'believe the unsub's active again' is valid," Aaron retorted.

"Go get Morgan, tell him we don't need Reid," Rossi said to Emily who got up and followed in the direction Morgan had left in.

"It's not enough to open this again based on a hunch," Aaron added, pulling Dave's attention back to him. The unit chief glanced at the door where Morgan had come in, holding his phone up.

"He didn't pick up anyway," Morgan said.

"What does Erin say about all of this?" Aaron turned back to Dave. The older man was clutching one of the files tightly in his grasp. They all knew that inside every file was a photograph of Dave's three-year-old son. There was also a photo of that smiling toddler's remains.

"She is happy to sign off on it," Dave answered simply.

It was JJ to speak next. Her voice was soft and she kept glancing at Dave sympathetically. "Hotch is right. This cold case is over two decades old. We need something conclusive to reopen it."

"Erin has given her consent, that's all that matters," Dave said, his grip growing tighter on the file.

JJ looked over at Hotch for help. The unit chief was trying to keep the image of Sawyer from his mind. He wanted to burn all of the files they had in the room. He wanted all evidence that it ever happened to be destroyed, and at that moment, that included himself.

He let out a deep breath that betrayed him by shaking as it escaped. "Meat..." Aaron paused, swallowing down the words quickly. "The unsub could be dead by now... h-he... he looked like he was in his forties back then and he was frail, which is why he targeted younger boys. He could have died on the run. Opening this case could do more harm than good."

"Harm? Reopening a few old wounds to finally get this man behind bars? Aaron, remember what he did to you. To all of those boys. He _murdered_ my three-year-old son. He removed his teeth, beat him, and burned him alive. My little boy is dead because of this man. I know he's still out there." Dave was shaking, he held onto the file as if it was the little boy he'd lost in 1986. "I need justice for my son."

Aaron stared at Dave as the older man breathed quickly, forcing himself to calm down. Garcia had her head in her hands, things like this affected her deeply. Morgan silently snuck his hand around her and rubbed her back while he himself looked between Rossi and Hotch. Emily and JJ were trying to be invisible, Emily with her head in her file while JJ just looked at nothing in particular across the table.

"If you show me real proof-," Aaron said, his voice gentler this time. "-then I will agree to reopon this case. What is your reason to believe the unsub is back?"

Dave reached down into his pocket, fumbling for something there while an eerie silence fell over the room. "Heres my reason," he muttered, pulling a small drawstring bag from his pocket.

Rossi loosened the strings and turned the bag upside down and the team watched in muted horror as tiny teeth clattered onto the table.

* * *

**Sorry that it's only short, especially since it ****took so long. the next chapter is under construction, hopefully I'll be able to refresh you with new content (as in past chapter 6) ;)**

**Please review, see you soon.**


	6. Open Case

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters) **

**Hope everyone is safe. This is the last rewritten chapter after this I will be able to properly update the story.**

**If this is your first time visiting the story, basically I didn't like the way the story was going and so (after a long time of procrastination) I deleted three chapters and made big changes to them. Everything should make sense now.**

**Please review, it has taken me so long to get the motivation to rewrite this and your thoughts mean so much to me.**

**Thank you to Caroliny Hotchner, Rocco23, zhangxinna, and Svnflower who left a review on the last chapter.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

Spencer glanced out of his window. His father's car was back. It had been for an hour.

Spencer looked down at his phone. Morgan's contact details were up on the screen.

He's only been gone two days. His dad hadn't been back since he hit him... until now. He could call Morgan; reimpose the sense of normality he found when he left home.

"William!?"

Spencer froze, his finger over the call button. She's probably calling _him_, he thought with a nauseous feeling rising in his stomach. His tongue felt fat.

"William, your father wants to talk to you!"

* * *

Erin Strauss wasn't a rash person. She was usually quite calm, experiences had hardened her.

She'd lost a child, been through a messy divorce only to reconcile that marriage, not to mention the countless cases she'd conducted.

So, as she sat with her partner's team, her deceased three-year-old son's teeth laid out in front of her, she tried to keep herself composed.

Aaron lowered his head as vicious images of 1986 came to mind. He felt like screaming when he remembered the night they had left Spencer behind.

Dave, meanwhile, was holding Erin's face. "But this means something, Erin. It means we can find the one responsible."

Morgan, who had been trying to console Garcia with looks of solace, nodded solemnly.

Emily, also intrigued, spoke up, "we can help take on the case."

JJ nodded, as did Garcia, though she quickly ducked her head back down, still reeling from seeing such small teeth discarded on the table.

Aaron was about to insist he stayed and finished paperwork for their current cases when his phone chirped to life. Rossi looked his way and suddenly saw how pale the unit chief was. Aaron muttered an apology to Dave (who just nodded) and stepped out. He glanced at his phone only to see an unrecognised number.

He felt sick when the memory of him and the other boys calling the police on a stranger's phone surfaced, one of the older boys, Bailey had done it while they listened in and sobbed. He squeezed his eyes shut and the voices of the boys shouting down phone, begging for help, ebbed into the normal sounds of the bullpen. He looked back at the conference room, before hurrying toward his office. He prayed the number was good news. For once.

* * *

Spencer watched his father. He sat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in front of him and the newspaper hiding his face. Spencer tentatively reached up and touched his own face. He'd checked his eye that afternoon and the corner was a vivid pink; purple would soon start creeping from it. He could feel it every time he blinked and his eyelid refused to open more than halfway.

William Reid senior shuffled his papers and dropped them slowly.

Spencer's eyelid made a valiant attempt at opening fully as he stared at his father's swollen face. The man's lip was split and his nose had swelled painfully, the skin around it inflamed.

"Sir?"

William grunted and pointed to the chair opposite him. Spencer didn't argue, he pulled out the chair and sat down quickly. His mother stood by the sink, gently rubbing a cloth across a plate.

"What happened?" Spencer whispered after a tense moment of silence.

* * *

**_June 1986_**

_Spencer's mouth hurt. In fact, he was in agony, his gums pulsed like electricity. He sat in the back seat, his trembling hands trying to keep a bloody rag in his mouth. He sobbed as quietly as he could, his body convulsing with them._

_The lady looked back, meat man still had his eyes on the road. She tilted her head before looking at Meat-Man. "We should get him some ice," she said._

_Meat-man took his eyes off the road for a moment and shrugged._

_"You wanted him, you deal with him."_

_"W-wanna go h-o-home," Spencer stammered between sobs._

_"Now now, we're going home. We're your parents now."_

_"No! I want my papa!"_

_Diana rolled her eyes and looked at her husband. He seemed to be smirking._

_"William." Diana looked back at Spencer and he sniffled loudly, trying to swallow the stale blood in his mouth and whining at the pain in his gums. "William look at me."_

_Spencer blinked his wet eyes at her then frowned. "I'm not William."_

_"Of course you are-"_

_"No! I'm Spen-"_

_"William Reid Jr. That's what we called you when you were born."_

_Despite his mouth aching Spencer shook his head stubbornly._

_"I'm Spencer Rossi!" he declared. He closed his mouth quickly with a whine. Talking hurt; his tongue nudged at his raw and empty gums._

_Meat-man turned his nasty head around and glared at Spencer. "You are William Reid Junior," he hissed._

_"William 'Spencer' Reid Jr," Diana added with a chirp in her voice. "That's your middle name, honey. That's why you're confused."_

_Spencer looked between the two strangers and he sunk back into the car seats. His papa would find him. He repeated it in his head as he tried to cry quietly, a bitter taste of blood continuing to encapsulate his mouth._

_He wanted to go home._

* * *

Aaron pulled his office door closed and let out a brief sigh. The past was being dug up once again. His hands shook and he fumbled with his phone. They were going to have to go there again and Aaron... he wasn't sure he could face it. And as for Spencer Reid and Dave's son, Aaron was at a lost end. All coherency had flitted from sight.

Aaron, forgetting himself, accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

"This is-"

"Aaron!? Tell me it's you!"

Aaron pulled the phone away from his ear and frowned.

"Who is this?"

"Me... Joe. I'm talking to Aaron Hotchner right?"

Hotch felt his arm grow heavy. Joe Roberts.

"Yes, it's Aaron. Joe... I haven't heard from you for a while. You didn't come to the meeting." Aaron fumbled for his chair and he sat down slowly, his other hand reaching up to cradle the phone. Figures from his past were springing up everywhere and now Joe Roberts, the boy he'd cried with when the police found them twenty-two-years ago, had reared his head.

"I was trying to move on. Aaron, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

"Alright."

"Trust me-"

"I always have," Aaron said in a quiet voice and Joe went quiet for a moment.

Finally, he took a deep breath and said: "I've been attacked, Aaron."

Aaron sat up a bit straighter. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, well, I'll live. A couple of bruised ribs and a gnarly concussion, I got off lightly this time."

Hotch looked up as someone knocked on his door and pushed it open. Rossi glanced his way and then backed away but Aaron motioned him in.

"It isn't the first time?"

Dave sat down on the couch and watched Aaron.

"No. It... Christ, I can't believe I'm saying this. It was him, Aaron. That motherfucker. Not done with me apparently."

Aaron's eyes met with Dave's and the older agent felt a shiver pass through him at the look of utter terror in the gaze.

"Where are you? Where is he now!?"

"Gone. He hit me from behind but I messed him up before he could do much more than he has. He ran when someone heard us. But it was him."

"Aaron? What is it?" Dave asked as Aaron started to yank open his drawers.

"You're sure, Joe?"

Aaron found his sketchbook and slammed it on his desk as he adjusted the phone.

"Yea... you work for the CIA or something don't you?"

"FBI. Where are you?"

"Oh right, yea, Utah."

"Wheels Up," Aaron said, looking straight at Dave. Rossi stood up and nodded solemnly. He patted his pocket where Aaron knew his son's teeth lay. "Thirty minutes."

"What?"

"Send me your address, Joe, we'll be there soon."

Aaron pulled the phone away from his ear and dropped it on his desk. It landed on the side of his sketchbook which was open on the earliest sketch of Meat-Man.

* * *

**_Early June 1986_**

_Aaron held his knees to his chest and tried to hold off the shivers. Despite it being the start of summer the basement was cold at night. Aaron slowly turned his head and saw Spencer at his side. The boy didn't leave him much._

_Aaron was surprised by how little he boy cried. Most nights at least someone in the basement whimpered and cried quietly and Aaron had been guilty of it once. Spencer also cried but not as often as Aaron would imagine for a toddler._

_Aaron looked at the boy and saw that he was sleeping, his head lolled to the side and resting on Aaron's hip._

_On Aaron's other side sat Joe who was glaring at the door._

_"Joe?" Aaron whispered, his eyes narrowed on the teen in the dark._

_"I reckon we could escape you know," Joe said, his eyes drifting slowly to a locked window close to the basement's ceiling. It was pretty high up. The boy's sat quietly, listening to the other kid's snoring softly, someone was sniffing in the corner._

_Aaron looked at the window. He wet his lips as he eyed the lock on the latch. "How old are you, Joe?"_

_Joe glanced at Aaron, his eyes wet. "Fourteen," he whispered. "You?"_

_"Fifteen. My dad is going to teach me to drive soon."_

_Joe stared at Aaron with a hopeful look before a smile rose to his lips. "Is..." he mumbled and then he nodded. "Yea. I'm... I'm moving in with my dad, he said I could when schools finished."_

_"That's cool. Where's your dad live?"_

_"California. Sweet right?"_

_Aaron nodded with an impressed look. "Yea."_

_"What car are you gonna get?"_

_Aaron shrugged. "I thought my dad was going to fix up one from his work but he might get me a new one after this." Aaron smirked as did Joe._

_"You really think we can get out of here?" Joe said, doubt back in his voice._

_Aaron glanced back at Spencer who was still sleeping against him. "Yea. I'm sure we can."_

* * *

Aaron walked back into the conference room, his phone in his clenched fist. Dave followed behind, his face hopeful almost excited.

"Dave was right," Aaron said. "Joe Roberts just called me. He's been attacked and I have reason to believe it was our unsub. That means he _is_ active again." Aaron nodded to Dave who suddenly looked hopeful.

"I'm assuming Joe Roberts as in..." Emily pulled out a photo from her file of a fourteen year old Joe taken after they were found, his face dirty, and scratched and relieved.

"Yes," said Aaron.

"So..." JJ closed her file. "Do you think he's targeting the victims?"

"And their families," added Garcia, her sympathetic smile directed at Dave.

"Maybe. We need to discuss this more on the jet." Aaron paused. His eyes had fallen on a file on the table and he could see a photo of Spencer peeking out from under some others. He hardened his expression and looked around at his team. "Wheels up."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I'm trying to bring coherency back to this work.**

**Please review and I'll see you soon...ish.**

**If you like Supernatural I'd really appreciate you checking out my story 'Stuck in the Impala.' It's an entry for the Quarantine Writing Challenge. it would mean the world if you guys enjoy it enough to vote for me. Details are on the story (in my profile.) voting ends May 11th. Check out the other stories too.**


	7. One Left Behind

(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)

**I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. It's finally time to see what really happened the night the boy's escaped.**

**Please review.**

* * *

_**1986**_

_When Aaron scaled the basement wall and scrambled through the window, he ran. The basement was part of an old farmhouse, surrounded by fields. In the dark, Aaron could see the dust kicked up by the other boys and he tore off in their direction. _

_In his sudden rush of adrenaline he forgot that Spencer hadn't been pushed out first. Aaron __didn't know that Joe had told Spencer to guard the door. He didn't know that the boy who lived upstairs had come in despite Spencer's attempt to keep him back. As Aaron ran he didn't realise that in their panic the bigger boys didn't help Spencer up and that he was the only boy still stuck there._

_After around five minutes of running, Aaron stopped, hands on his knees, panting out breaths and huffing in air that wasn't tarnished by stank basement odours. It was then he remembered the three-year-old boy he was meant to be looking after._

_"Spencer!" Aaron wrenched his head back at the building. Several boys were running toward him and he searched the crowd for Spencer. He looked back ahead of him. Surely the boy hadn't been in front of him. Aaron was too fast... unless someone carried him._

_"Aaron!"_

_"Come on, Aaron! We have to go!"_

_Aaron tripped, only just catching himself. He looked back. He could hear Meat-man's booming voice in the distance too. There was a loud bang and as the boys stormed passed him, Aaron could see orange in the now tiny basement window._

_Aaron stared until he was the only boy still stood there. From where he stood he could hear the crackling._

_"Aaron!"_

_Joe's voice broke through the static in Aaron's ears and he turned back. Joe stood on the edge of the woods, motioning him forwards._

_"C'mon, man, we have to catch up to the others."_

_"Is Spencer with them?"_

_Joe looked back. He hadn't seen the kid get out. He'd watched the boy from upstairs shove Spencer before 'upstairs-boy' ran back through the doors to tell Meat-Man. He glanced at Aaron and saw the desperate look in his eyes. He swallowed thickly, and said, "Think I saw him with Bailey." He paused, glancing at Aaron to see if he'd bought it. Aaron was growing but the kid seemed to do that a lot. "Now hurry," Joe said._

_Aaron took one last look at the house before bolting._

* * *

_Spencer raised his head as he saw the retreating feet through the window._

_"No..." he mumbled, his mind going back to his parents who he missed dearly. "Mommy, Papa?" he whispered, reaching up helplessly at the dirt-washed window. He was so close. He tried again to reach, going up painfully on his toes. He fell back flat of his feet after a few desperate seconds and he sniffed._

_"P-papa will find me," he mumbled, squinting up._

_Spencer tried again to reach the window but it was in vain. There was a yell above him and Spencer froze, plastering himself to the wall under the window._

_The door was thrown open and the boy who lived upstairs was flung down the steps. He hit the ground with a hard thud that had Spencer staggering back. He covered his eyes when the boy started to wail._

_"You let them get away!" Meat-man was at the door and Spencer crossed his little fingers which were still covering his face._

_Meat-Man stormed down the steps. He glanced at Spencer, the only boy still there and then up at the open window. A woman followed down the steps, her hair a mess and her night-gown dirty. She was carrying a canister and a lighter and a pack of smokes in the other hand._

_"William?" she said, blinking around the dark room._

_Meat-Man turned his eyes away from Spencer, focusing on the boy from upstairs. Spencer watched through his trembling fingers as Meat-Man spat on the young boy still cowering at the bottom steps. "You're no son of mine," he snapped and he stepped toward Spencer, grabbing his arm. He looked briefly at him and snarled, "You. Too small to get out? You'll burn with him."_

_Spencer cried out loud when Meat-Man shoved him to the floor. Spencer raised his head slightly and saw the other boy lay beside him. He had his mouth open in a grimace and Spencer noticed the boy didn't have any front teeth._

_"Diana, get the pliers. We still have some time." Meat-Man motioned for the woman to go but she didn't move. Meat-Man turned, putting his foot on Spencer's back. "Now!"_

_"My baby?" Diana pointed at the Spencer, Meat-Man's foot still crushing his lungs._

_Meat-Man looked down at Spencer and snickered. "That ones yours." Meat-Man pointed to the boy blubbering against the steps. Diana glanced at the boy but quickly stepped over him and pointed at Spencer._

_"No," she whispered. "This is my boy."_

_Spencer peeked up at the woman. Despite the obvious lunacy going on in her mind and appearance, her face had a loving quality to it. "William, that's him... that's my baby."_

_"I thought **he** was?"_

_"No! I said no! I never wanted that one!"_

_The boy on the step rubbed at his grazed knees, sniffling quietly._

_Meat-Man sighed and took his foot off Spencer's back. Spencer took a deep breath, clinging to the floor in fear. After a moment soft hands wrapped around his arms and turned him. He was brought face to face with the woman and she smiled sweetly at him. "Mine," she murmured._

_"Pliers." Meat-Man held his hand out expectantly and Diana produced a pair of rusty pliers from her pocket, handing them over as she beamed at Spencer._

_Meat-Man grabbed the other boy by the shoulder, pulling him up and marching him to the wall. Spencer tried to look but Diana was busy stroking his face and rubbing away the tears on his cheeks. He heard a thunking sound, and a high-pitch cry. He knew the other boy had been hit hard._

_Meat-Man's voice came again. "Wait upstairs. I need to pull his teeth."_

_Spencer trembled as Diana nodded and gently pushed Spencer's head back. "I know but I can stay here, William. I'll hold him for you." _

_Meat-Man grumbled something but seemed to agree, his heavy footsteps thundering towards them as Spencer shook._

_"You're my gift," Diana whispered as she held his head in place firmly. Spencer looked back to see Meat-Man sprinkling the contents of the canister around the basement, over the unconscious boy and up the walls. Spencer pressed his face into Diana's nightdress when Meat-Man stopped at the boy again and dropped the canister. He took a knife from his pocket and lined it up to the boys neck._

_Spencer shrieked into Diana's dress at the disturbing sound that followed. He squeezed his eyes tightly, desperate to forget the glimpse he'd just seen of the boy from upstairs. Diana hushed him, stroking his hair and holding him close to her breast while Spencer sobbed. It wasn't long before his own head was pulled back and Spencer screeched in blind terror._

_He opened his eyes for a moment to see that Meat-man wasn't brandishing the knife anymore. Instead, he held a pair of pliers. Spencer swallowed back his next scream as Diana's hands gripped his chin tightly. _

_Meat-man grinned. "Hold him steady, Diana. They all need to go."_

* * *

**Present**

"You should have seen him, Diana."

"I never liked that one."

"The Robert's kid?"

Diana nodded, raising her head from her book as she did.

William smirked. "No, I liked the kid. He had guts. I was saving that one."

"What for?"

"You know... I had plans. But now." William chortled to himself. "Now he's older. Like William Jr."

"You shouldn't have gone out. Those people, they'll find us," Diana whispered. William just waved her off.

"Not before I find them. We haven't been found yet. Let me have some fun."

Diana looked William up and down. "And let them attack you?"

William shrugged. "What about William?"

Diana looked around sharply. William didn't look at her but he had a smile present on his lips.

"What are you asking?" Diana asked.

"Well... he's-"

"Please."

"Diana, I know you think I let you keep him but it was convenient. We couldn't come back without a kid but that one out there-." William pointed to the hall. "He's not our Junior. I think it's time for you to let him go."

Diana shook her head firmly. She sat up off Williams bed and looked at him for a long moment.

"Don't... I can't," she muttered.

"It's been twenty two years."

* * *

**Present**

Aaron walked into the room where Joe sat. Joe stood up, wincing a little as he did. They stared at each other before Aaron stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. Joe looked at the hand before chuckling and pulling Aaron into a hug.

"Wow," he said and he pulled away, looking Aaron up and down. "You clean up."

"I'd say the same about you but..." Aaron motioned to Joe's face and the other man laughed, touching his swelled and bruised face with a grimace.

"Yea... I'm normally a stud but under these circumstances I'm letting it slide."

Aaron nodded slowly and pointed for Joe to sit back down. He also took a seat and leaned closer to Joe.

"Have you given a statement?" Aaron asked and Joe nodded stiffly. "Would you give me a run down?"

Joe looked up at Aaron, his eyes sympathetic. "It'll be hell for me to retell and hell for you to listen," he said. "It was him though. I know it."

They sat quietly, letting the idea sink in. "I can give you the briefest of summaries," Joe said after collecting himself and Aaron just nodded.

"It was planned. They found a tracker in my car. That's how he found me."

Joe took a deep breath while Aaron felt sick with dread.

"I went to get my wife an anniversary gift and he just jumped me on the way back. He pulled me into an alley... I think that's where he wanted to finish me but I fought back... he must have forgotten we're not kids anymore. I got to the busiest part of town and called the police. Then I called you."

Aaron listened, his eyes on Joe the whole time. When he finished, Joe took a deep breath and leaned back.

"I saw his face. I was sure it was him, Aaron. I know it's hard to believe."

"I believe you," said Aaron. He glanced back at the bullpen behind them and caught Rossi's eye.

"That's..." Joe trailed off, motioning to Dave through the glass door. Aaron turned back and nodded.

"Spencer's father," he said.

Joe chuckled to himself. "You know when he told them stories about his dad I thought he was making them up. Kids and their imagination, ya know."

Aaron nodded slowly.

"Guess not... poor guy." Joe rubbed the back of his neck and Aaron frowned. The gesture was one of someone harbouring some kind of guilt.

"What?" Joe asked, watching as Aaron's scowl fell.

"Nothing," he muttered. They all felt guilty. Aaron himself had gone to therapy to deal with his own guilt. Joe was just going through the same as him.

"You weren't the only one who he contacted..." Aaron said. "Rossi was sent his teeth."

"What! Whose teeth!?" Joe stared at Aaron and then Dave and his face seemed to grow paler against the dark bruises.

"He took the teeth. All the boys that died, he took their teeth. And the ones he sent to Rossi were Spencer's, we had them analysed."

Joe pressed a fist to his lips and he swallowed hard. "That's... that's awful."

"And that's twice he's made contact."

Joe rubbed his cheek and smiled. "Yea, his fist certainly made contact."

"It means we have a case, Joe. We might find this guy."

The door was wrenched open, slamming against the wall as William tore inside. Spencer dropped his phone in shock, the screen falling to the floor first and shattering.

"Dad?"

Spencer pressed himself to the wall as he stared at his dad. He was covered in blood. His boots were spattered in the stuff. He'd taken his pants off which must have been saturated since his knees were pale red where the blood had seeped through.

"What have you done?" Spencer said in a hoarse whisper, his eyes scanning his father's maniacal grin and his hands which were caked in blood.

"I feel so much better," William said, swinging the door back and slamming it on its hinges. When the door shook open again Spencer looked past his father but saw no-one in the hall.

"Mom!"

He shuffled away from William, hoping the blood wasn't hers.

William laughed. "This?" He raised his hands and examined the blood. "No. It's one of your friends."

Spencer's eyes widened, the only friends he had were the team. He'd just spoken to Morgan.

"JJ?" he whispered and his eyes grew hot and wet. Morgan said Hotch had gone out too. "A-Aaron?" Spencer's voice broke.

"_Old_ friends," said William, getting dangerously close. "What a thrill! Twenty-two years and they think I'm gone."

William lunged forward and grabbed Spencer by his collar, pulling him close enough that his bloody nose nearly touched Spencer's. "Think again," he hissed, yanking Spencer from the wall and dragging him to the door. "This time there will be no _gifts _for Diana, and you boy, I've put up with you long enough."

* * *

**Thank for reading!**

**Please review, let me know what you thought.**

**Stay safe.**


	8. Starting From the Beginning

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Please review. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Bailey MacDonald regretted the extra drink he'd had before leaving the bar. His head had already been pounding and now he could barely keep his footing straight.

It also didn't help that it was pitch-black and he couldn't get his fingers to stop shaking to turn on his phone torch.

When he got back to his car he fumbled with his keys for a moment. He stared at them then at the car, his vision wavy. He sighed, pocketing the keys. _Definitely not sober enough to drive, _he thought and he gave a disheartened huff, looking longing at his car for another moment.

Bailey reached again for his phone but his clumsy fingers slipped right over the slick smartphone and it dropped to the floor.

"Shit," Bailey muttered, practically falling to his knees in order to retrieve the phone. It had clattered just a few inches under his car and he stretched his arm out underneath the crane dirty underside to grab it. As his fingers curled around the warm screen he noticed something else flashing on the underside of his car. Bailey pulled his phone out but ducked again to get another look at the flashing red thing. He squinted at the circular pod wedged behind the wheel and watched as it flashed red every second or so.

"What the hell?" Bailey mumbled, pulling himself back up to his knees and scowling at his warped reflection in the car's blue paint-job. He didn't remember putting anything like that under the car. He frowned harder... he was certainly not sober enough for this much thinking.

He blinked, remembering where he was and how many drinks over the limit he was. It was then that he noticed a second face in the reflection of the car door, a dark body holding it up.

Bailey narrowed his eyes at the illusion, watching the reflection move until a pair of legs stood behind him. Bailey turned his head groggily just as a bat collided with the side of his head.

Bailey collapsed to the ground beside his car, his body jerking slightly in response to the hit before unconsciousness took him.

Bailey didn't wake up for a long time. When he did, he kept his eyes closed, his head pounding and his throat constricting when bile rose up.

He managed to open his eyes and keep himself from vomiting for long enough to notice the enclosed room he was in. The ceiling slanted together, forming a triangle. Bailey realised he must be in an attic.

He turned his head to the dim light peeking through a dusty looking window. He also realised then that he was tied up. Bailey jerked his hand but it didn't go far. He glanced up with painfully narrow eyes to see both his wrists firmly chained above his head. He flopped forward again and he saw the rope holding his two legs together.

He glanced around and saw another man with him. He was much younger, he looked barely into his twenties. In the dark, Bailey could see the whites of the young man's eyes.

His arms were chained up above his head and his feet were tied. He looked back at Bailey, leaning his head back and groaning.

"Oh god," the man said, his voice sounded wrecked.

"Who are you?"

The man dropped his head and slowly looked at Bailey. There were tears in his eyes.

"I'm Spencer."

Bailey stared at him. He recognised his that name.

"Uh... Bailey," Bailey croaked, wetting his lips as he gave the attic another sweeping glance.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled and Bailey turned to looked at him again. Spencer flicked his head up toward the attic door. "That's my dad," he whispered.

Bailey looked over at the door, blinking for a moment before looking back at Spencer. "Meat-man's your dad?" he said breathlessly.

"Who?" mumbled Spencer, a frown furrowing his brow.

"Meat... what did you say your name was again?"

* * *

Morgan paced for a moment longer before grabbing his phone and hitting call again. He stood, his fingers dancing slightly on the rough denim of his jeans. The dialling stopped and Morgan's heart leapt as it had done twice already.

"Spen-"

"This is Reid. I can't take your call, please leave a message and I'll get back to you soon."

Morgan growled and clicked off the phone, slamming it down on the table.

"Come on, kid," he muttered, glancing mutinously at his phone. "Just let me know you're good."

"Morgan?"

Derek jumped when he saw Emily staring at him from the doorway. He grabbed his phone and nodded. "What's up?"

"Another man has been taken."

"Crap..." muttered Morgan.

"There was blood by his car, the unsub must have jumped him there but they didn't find his keys or wallet."

"Who was it?"

"Bailey... uh..."

"MacDonald?" Morgan said as he raised his eyebrows and Emily nodded.

"Yea. Bailey MacDonald. He was twelve when the unsub first kidnapped him."

Derek nodded slowly. Emily glanced at his pocket where he'd deposited his phone.

"Everything okay?" she asked, scowling at Morgan's slightly unnerved expression. Morgan nodded again, making an effort to pull his lips onto a half-smile. He sat down and tried to hold the smile.

"Yea... tough case," he muttered.

Emily scoffed. "You're telling me. Rossi and Hotch must be..." she paused, taking a seat as she grimaced. "God, it's got to be torture for them."

"Rossi needs this. He's so determined about it all. I can't imagine what it's been like for them not to have known who killed their son or even why," said Morgan and Emily sighed.

"I don't think any of us really want to know the reason."

"Yea, you're telling me."

Emily sat quietly, watching Morgan fiddle with his phone before she said, "come on, lets get food. There's no point in killing ourselves over one aspect of the profile. Food helps your brain work." She tapped Morgan's head and he laughed.

"Reid would argue that it's coffee that made your brain work," he said with a smirk and Emily rolled her eyes.

"No, he'd give us an exact run down on how _exactly_ the brain works. Come on, I don't need a Reid biology test, don't you dare call him."

Morgan gave an uneasy chuckle and pushed up from the table. He wished he _could_ call him... and that he'd pick up.

* * *

"Recognise him, Junior?"

Spencer glared at his father. "No," he said, _and don't calm me that, _he added in his head.

William laughed and shook his head. "Oh dear me, you have a lot of catching up to do."

Bailey glanced across at Spencer. "Junior... a-are you named after him? _Him... _jeez."

Spencer shook his head but his father had heard. "Good question. He was named after me, but as you can clearly see he doesn't live up to my standards."

"Please, dad, please don't do this," Spencer whispered but William just laughed.

"I'm finishing what I'm starting. Do either of you recall a Wally Johnson?"

Spencer shook his head while Bailey paused, staring up at William. William smirked smugly.

"Ah, someone seems to."

"Where is he?" Bailey whispered, his eyes wide. Wally had been slightly obnoxious but Bailey liked him. Wally came just three days after Bailey himself and when they were running away from the farm Wally had been the one at his side. His parents and Wally's mother had taken them out for lunch after the... kidnapping but Bailey hadn't seen the boy since then.

William was still grinning when Bailey looked back up at him. "Shame," William said, looking down at his hands. "He's much weaker than I assumed. The blow to the head that took you both down... well, it seemed to kill your friend Wally."

Bailey's breath caught in his throat.

"Dead..." he mumbled, his eyes growing absent while William's gaze grew stronger.

"As a doornail," William hissed and he reached into his pocket. Spencer looked positively sick, he had his head turned and he was inhaling shakily. William pulled out a clear box and gave it a shake, whatever was inside rattled.

"Taking all of them would've been a challenge, but I _did_ take one."

Bailey and Spencer managed to look long enough to see a bloody tooth shaking around inside the box. Spencer turned his head quickly, retching into the corner.

William laughed, stowing the tooth away. "Come on, son," he said with a grin. "I had to restart my collection. I unfortunately had to give _yours_ away too, but never mind, we're starting again."

Bailey stared in horror at William Reid. "You're sick," he mumbled. "I-I hope... when they find you that they kill you. I hope they shoot you!"

William laughed again, a cruel cackle breaking past his lips. "Keep hoping boys," he said before turning and shutting the attic door behind him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**Please review. **

**Stay safe.**


	9. Fate

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thank you Anareris, fishtrek, Cherubim, Ferret54, R Leaf, it's Morley to You, Lady Lunera, and Yeegaber for reviewing last chapter.  
**

**Please review. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Spencer stared hard at the chains holding his arms up. If he was fast enough he could twist his hand, probably break something in doing so, but slip his hand through. He glanced up at his other hand and grimaced. Having one hand free would be useless, he'd have to break the other.

"Any ideas?"

Spencer turned to look at the stranger in his attic. He shook his head and Bailey sighed, turning to look up at the roof where the two half's met. Spencer looked at him for a moment. He was older than him, and probably a little taller. He reminded Spencer of the kids at school who played baseball on the weekends. His father had tried to teach him but that had ended with the bat being swung against the back of his legs and Spencer having a limp for the rest of the week.

Spencer looked away from Bailey and toward the door.

"Your old mans a psycho." Spencer turned back to see Bailey watching him. Spencer nodded.

"You don't have to tell me," Spencer replied quietly.

"How..." Bailey paused as Spencer met his gaze. "Uh... well, how have you... lived with him? Don't you know who he is?" he said and he watched as Spencer frowned.

"He's horrible, I know," muttered Spencer.

"Yea but... he's... he's a-a murderer!"

Spencer looked down at his legs. "I didn't know." His eyes started to burn as he kept his head low. After several minutes of silence he said, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer said loudly, lifting his head but avoiding Bailey's eyes.

It was Bailey's turn to scowl. "Why?"

Spencer huffed. "Because _I_ didn't know. I-I'm an FBI agent-"

Bailey raised his eyebrows. He knew Aaron Hotchner was some kind of agent too.

"And I never... I didn't see it." Spencer sniffled, glancing quickly at the door where he thought he heard something.

"That's not your fault... he's your dad."

Spencer tore his eyes away from the door slowly. "And he's awful... how did I never see it." Spencer let out a breath and his eyes widened. "M-My dad's a murderer."

Bailey chewed on his lip. "Listen, kid, they haven't found this guy. It's been twenty-two years and they've _never_ found him, don't beat yourself up over-"

The door opened, cutting Bailey's speech short. Both men looked up as William stepped inside with a tool belt around his waist. Bailey instantly jerked back, his breath sticking in his throat.

"Oh god... oh god, oh god!" he cried, kicking against the floorboards and the chains holding him to them. He shuffled back, pulling the chains with him. He painted heavily as his chains rattled along with him.

"Please..." he whispered, staring at William's belt as tears started to drip from the corners of his eyes.

William was smirking at this display as he stepped into the room. But it wasn't Bailey he stepped toward. He grinned when he stood in front of Spencer, his fingers hooked into his belt.

"Let's go, boy."

* * *

Dave sat back in his chair, his eyes still on the photos. Lined up on the table was an image of each boy (taken before their kidnapping) in the order they were taken. He avoided the sixth boy from the end, though he caught a glimpse of his son's crinkled eyes. He looked instead at the boy two ahead of Spencer.

'Wally Adams' was tagged to the front of the photo. The young man had been found on his porch. He'd had a brain haemorrhage, but the crime scene photos couldn't capture the internal damage, only the trail of blood from his nose to his chin.

Rossi tutted in the silence. Wally was the first death which didn't bode well for the other survivors. He sat up and leaned toward the table. He touched the photo of his son sadly and gave a weak laugh, imagining if his son was still alive, the poor kid would _still_ be in danger.

"What are we gonna do, hey kiddo?" Rossi pulled his eyes away from Spencer to the boy just one in front of the end. Aaron looked just as serious when he was young as he did now. A pang of worry went off in Dave's mind and he hunched over the photo. He glanced up at the office window but couldn't see Aaron through them.

The unsub wasn't hitting the boys in order. Dave rubbed at his temples, _he's hitting whoever's closest,_ he thought. He looked back at the photo of Aaron... that meant Aaron could easily be the next target.

* * *

Spencer stumbled across the living room and fell to his knees. His back arching as he tried to catch his breath. A heavy foot slammed into his back taking him the rest of the way down.

"Oh come on, Junior, you can do better than that!" Spencer gritted his teeth and got his hands under him only for a sharp smack to the back of his head to buckle them. He felt forward, his cheek taking the brunt of the fall. Spencer winced and blinked at the floorboards. His cheek stung as did his chest and he tried narrowing his eyes to focus his vision. He barely noticed the hands yanking him onto his back.

"Pathetic," William hissed as he painfully gripped Spencer's hands and wrapped a length of rope around them. Spencer, still dazed, prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue. His teeth had grazed the skin, leaving the bitter tang of blood and the feel of shredded skin behind. He squinted up at the ceiling while his feet where chaperoned together.

His father's face came back into view and Spencer was finally able to pull himself back to reality. He tried to reach up and push William away but a frown fell over his brow when he found his arms stuck. He looked down. They'd been tied together with thick rope.

"Dad," Spencer whispered, raising his eyes up to William's face. The man was grinning. "Please, you don't have to do this," said Spencer quietly. He tried to move a foot but found them just as incapacitated as his hands.

"Do what?" William asked, his face becoming falsely puzzled. Spencer stared at him as a smirk overrode his features again. "What _exactly_ am I going to do?"

Spencer breathed in deeply. "Kill me," he whispered, his gaze falling away from his father's smug face.

William chuckled to himself. He brought his leg over Spencer so he was straddling the young man, making Spencer feel more uncomfortable. "Why would you think that?"

Spencer stayed quiet, he looked up trying to see what was behind them, maybe the curtains were open... if he made a signal or something-

William grabbed Spencer's face, forcing him to look back at him. William's fingers dug painfully into the growing purple glow of his cheek.

"I asked you a damn question." William pulled his head back only and cleared his throat before spitting into Spencer's face. William let go of Spencer's arms and Spencer gasped, his face twisting in disgust. While Spencer squirmed, William reached into his tool belt from behind. When Spencer has managed to get some of the spit off he was faced with a set of horrifying utensils. William gave the pliers a squeeze.

"It's been a long time coming, boy. And there are some traditions I still enjoy," he said and on the last word he seized Spencer's mouth. His fingers moved nimbly, and found a pressure point that had Spencer's jaw loosening, allowing William to yank it open.

Spencer could only splutter in terror as his mouth was forced open and the pliers disappeared from his view. He screamed as best he could around his father's dirty hands. He could feel the pliers scrape his gum and he thrashed desperately.

"Ah ah. You can't forget traditions, junior," William said and he grunted, his hands firmly gripping the plier handles before he twisted.

Spencer writhed on the floor when his tooth, despite valiantly trying to stay rooted, twisted with a crunch. He was drooling and screaming as William yanked again sharply. Spencer could still feel the tooth, attached partly to his torn gums, squelch as it began to detach.

"This was easier before," William grumbled as he gave another cruel twist. "Ah," he cried and he pulled the pliers from Spencer's mouth with a proud smile. Spencer shut his mouth and closed his eyes, his tongue seeking to comfort the loss in his mouth. He turned his face away from William and moaned.

William deposited the tooth into a small container before slipping it back into his pocket. It rattled a little before settling along the seams of the pocket.

Spencer gulped blood back, resisting the urge to gag.

"Just a few more things," William muttered, ignoring Spencer's whines as he plucked a small strip of paper from his pocket. Spencer's eyes snapped open again when William's fingers were back in his mouth. He tried to bite down but William's grip was ruthless. William shoved the wad of paper into Spencer's mouth and quickly closed it, sealing his hand over Spencer's lips.

"That's a message you need to deliver," he said. Spencer looked back at him, his eyes wet from the pain. "It's very important, boy," he added.

Spencer didn't have time to think about what the message could say because tape was suddenly pressed against his lips, locking the message inside his bloody mouth. Spencer felt oddly like a bottle carrying a secret treasure map.

Spencer forced the paper under his tongue, fighting back the urge to gag from the blood and the crinkling paper against his sore gums. He blinked up at his father. William grinned, leaning over Spencer who was helplessly lay beneath him and forced to endure William's predatory gaze.

Spencer's brow tilted down at the far corners of his eyes which only made William sneer more.

"Poor little Spencey," he said, his breath ghosting Spencer's ear as he sat up and smiled down at him. Spencer tried to shift, grunting behind the tape as William's legs and arms fenced him in. "Uh uh, you're not going anywhere, little boy."

"Mrrrm." Spencer glared up at William's smug face, feeling sick from the nickname he'd used.

William just continued to smirk and Spencer made a valiant effort to turn over but William seized his neck and held him to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened as he desperately tried to pull air through his nose. After a minute of Spencer choking on lack of air William let go and laughed. Spencer sucked in quickly, in case William strangled him again.

"It's good to finally be able to do this," William said in a low hiss. Spencer's breath shook. "'Mummy's not protecting you now."

Spencer whimpered behind his gag, glancing into William's eyes and then looking away, toward the door which was shut.

"She's not coming this time, boy. This was meant to happen a long time ago."

Spencer watched with a bewildered gaze as his father withdrew a knife from behind his back. He stared at it before letting out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. It came out through his nose: strangled and panicked and his chest dipped and rose fast with the next one. William placed his hand over Spencer's moving chest and he chuckled.

"I should be apologising," he said, gripping the knife tightly before carefully trailing it up Spencer's neck, letting it linger there for a moment while Spencer panted, his wild eyes trying to keep watch of the knife.

"I'm not as young as I was... neither are you. I haven't the time to..." William paused, a grin swelling his gaunt cheeks. He swiped the knife across Spencer's cheek, leaving a thin red line. Spencer rasped painfully behind his gag, his nostrils flaring as he tried to stay calm. "Cut," William said, the bite to his words causing Spencer to flinch. "I used to go slow. And yes, they were loud and they moved so much. But after a while, I could dissect them without much more than a whimper."

William pulled the knife away from Spencer's face and the young man drew in a deep breath. The corners of his eyes were wet and he could feel a tear trail down the side of his face and into his hair. He blinked hard, focusing back on the knife which was still firmly in William's grip.

"People change." William sighed and he adjusted himself, his knees squeezing Spencer's thighs tighter together, keeping him from moving. "Methods change. And you, well, you my boy, have been loyal. They left me but _you_... you stayed."

_Because I had no choice, _Spencer thought between ragged breaths.

"So I'll make this a little less graphic for you. They all think you're dead anyway."

Spencer frowned taking his eyes off the knife to peer at his father and try and understand what he meant.

But then, when he looked back to the knife it was gone. A sudden tightness enclosed around his chest, and he felt his breath leave him all together. Spencer stared up at his father as pain started to lace perfectly with the tightness and his chest felt like it was splitting in two. William looked back at him, his eyes lost for a moment. He looked down at the knife embedded in Spencer's chest and he laughed shakily. Spencer tried to breath out but after pain came agony and he couldn't hold back the muffled shrieks.

William pretends not to listen as he flexed his fingers on the knife. He listened to Spencer gasp and yell and convulse beneath him all the while holding the knife in the position he had hoped penetrated his son's heart.

Spencer knew he was going to die. An overwhelming dread flooded him, nearly overcoming his agony. The sort of dread that comes when one thinks too deeply into their inevitable death. _Play dead.._. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't sure he _could_ act dead, especially since he was fully aware that he was quite literally dying. _Play dead_, he thought again and Spencer drew in a breath, shaking in his attempts not to show pain. _He thinks he got your heart. You'd be dead by now... so play dead! _

William seemed to sense the slowing movement from Spencer. He lifted his head. Spencer kept his eyes closed but he couldn't stop his tormented nasal breathing.

Spencer gasped when William withdrew the knife. His chest felt hot and he could feel the sharp tip of the blade brush past his torn flesh.

Spencer tried to even his breathing again when the knife unexpectedly stuck him. This time in his abdomen. Spencer felt the urge to scream and he jerked suddenly. He managed, however, to go still right after and, in one split decision he held his breath.

The knife was withdrawn again but Spencer didn't make a sound. His throat was burning with screams and his eyes bled tears but he didn't move.

He heard William grunt and pull away. The man stood up and there was a silent moment. Spencer's chest started to burn with lack of air and he could feel blood gathering along his tied-up arms.

His legs were grabbed then and he was yanked suddenly. Spencer let out a breath carefully, wincing when it hitched on its way out.

"Will?"

Spencer wrenched a quick breath through his nose and held it.

William had dropped his legs.

"Diana?"

"Are you downstairs?"

There was a pause before William was grabbing Spencer's legs again and yanking him toward the front door.

"Stay up there," he yelled, giving Spencer a chance to breathe under the noise. "I've... made a mess. Stay up there."

Spencer managed to steal a wince unnoticed when his body was dragged across a doorframe, stirring up unbearable pain. He heard the door slam closed behind him and then his arms were grabbed. Spencer let them hang limply under William's grip. He was more focused on biting back his screams of pain at each movement William was subjecting his body to. Finally, he was raised up, his legs pulled up after him.

William crammed his son's body in the trunk of his car. He manoeuvred the still young-man's arms, tucking them alongside his bleeding body. Spencer held his breath so hard he thought he might pass out. William watched him for a moment before grunting.

The trunk slammed shut and Spencer's eyes shot open. He breathed raggedly, desperately refilling his lungs. His vision swayed a little, either from the pain or the lack of air. He whimpered, still holding back. He could hear the front door open. He reached down searching his numb chest before a scolding agony clawed at his chest. He pulled his fingers away from the moist skin and he squeezed his eyes shut... waiting. He could feel the thumping of his pulse in his ears. It was much too fast. He sucked in another breath, holding in a howl of pain. The car door slammed shut. Spencer bit down on the piece of paper still in his mouth.

When the engine roared to life Spencer screamed.

* * *

Rossi rejoined the team eventually but he didn't speak much. Aaron noticed a couple sideway glances his way by he tried to keep his attention on the case.

"He has to be operating in the Vegas area," said JJ as she looked over the map they'd set up. She ran her fingers over the marked spots and sighed. She turned and smiled weakly at Morgan. "We could use Spence right now," she said and Morgan smirked. They both glanced at Rossi who was frowning down at a report. JJ grimaced, "Reid I mean," she whispered.

Aaron looked up. "He's travelling then," he said. "The locations are all over the place."

He stepped back from the table and frowned thoughtfully as he looked at the map. "He-"

Aaron's phone went off, cutting him off. The rest of the team looked away from what they were doing.

Aaron pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear. "Hotchner?"

"Come on," Morgan said, turning back to the map. "We need to narrow it down."

"When?"

Rossi was still watching Aaron.

"Hold on," Aaron said and he pulled his phone from his ear and laid it on the table.

"It's the sheriff. A 911 call has been made in connection to the case," he said, hitting speaker.

"My team are listening, carry on."

"Someone found a body a few minutes ago on Woodcrest road. we were closest so we're on our way now."

"Another of _our_ victims?" Emily asked.

"Yea... it's pretty brutal, worse than the last one."

Aaron swallowed thickly. "Bailey?" he asked, his voice coming out shakier than anyone expected.

"No. We don't have an identity on this one yet. We're heading there now, I suggest you guys make your way over. You can take a look at the body before it's moved."

"Dead then," Dave muttered with a sigh.

"Sounds like. The 911 call said they found a dead body, we sent some ambulances too but from the description the caller gave, this kid was a goner."

* * *

**That just happened. Whoops. Don't worry, this is not a death fic.**

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think in the comments.**


	10. Incognizant Collision

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thanks to Caroliny Hotchner, Bohogal1998, hellomynameisv, R Leaf, Rocco23, fishtrek, and California Drifter for reviewing the last chapter.**

**This chapter was exciting to write... lots of perspectives. I can't wait to get the next chapter done.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

It wasn't so hard for Spencer to 'play dead' when the car came to a stop because he'd already passed out. He was teetering on the edge of death already. Dying wouldn't have been so hard to fake if he _had _been conscious when William dragged him from the trunk.

William left him in an empty parking space before hurrying back to his car, ski-mask pulled tightly over his face.

Spencer wasn't aware of anything in his unconsciousness except pain. And he wasn't alone for long. In the quietness of his mind he could hear voices yelling suddenly. His lip twitched under the duct tape.

Someone was crying while another voice shouted to someone else.

"-not moving... tied- dead! Yea-"

Spencer wished he could move, he'd certainly turn himself away from the sound. The pain in his chest was beginning to worsen when a loud wailing screeched in his ears.

There were more voices then and Spencer finally managed to pull himself out of unconsciousness.

* * *

Zoë Dunn and her boyfriend Ryan were the ones to find Spencer bleeding to death in an empty parking spot. They assumed he'd already succumbed to his injuries and so waited a short distance away from Spencer's tied up body. His shirt was torn in several places, hard to see through the deep saturation of blood. His mouth was covered with tape and his pale face was bruised and speckled with blood.

Ryan held Zoë as an ambulance stormed into the parking lot, followed quickly by the sheriff's squad car and from the sounds in the distance, more were coming.

Zoë stepped up and pointed frantically down at the dead man.

"T-there!" she cried. "We didn't touch him... or move him o-or anything. That's right, isn't it? We're not meant to do anything?"

The sheriff made a beeline for the body but the other officer that had stepped out from the car with him turned to them with a grim smile.

"We'll take over from here," he said simply. He glanced at the gathering EMTs at the ambulance before curtly nodding to Zoë and Ryan. "Would you mind waiting here until our other units arrive. They'll escort you to the station to make a statement." The officer only waited a moment for the shaky replies from his witnesses before he started toward the scene. The sheriff was frowning down at the body.

The officer looked down too and pressed his lips together. "They were right in saying it was a brutal attack."

The officer glanced at the sheriff who didn't nod. A frown of his own fell on the officer's face. "What is it?"

The sheriff bent down and pressed his fingers to the victim's neck.

"He's not..." the officer started and he took a step back toward the EMTs. The sheriff's eyes grew wide and he reached down to cup the young man's face.

"Can you hear me, son?" he asked and he looked up quickly to his officer. "He has a pulse!"

"Christ- Over here! He's alive!" The officer was charging toward the waiting ambulance while the sheriff pulled the tape from the victim's mouth.

He'd seen his eyelids flicker slightly. "Come on, kid, talk to me," muttered the sheriff as he gave the victim's face a gentle tap.

The EMTs got with the program quickly and they hurried to join the sheriff.

* * *

Spencer finally managed to pry his eyes open and he looked up to see a sun-wrinkled face above him.

"That's it. He's conscious. You'll need to move him quickly though."

The face moved aside and two new ones came into view. Spencer groaned when a ray of light blinded him suddenly and he tried to jerk away.

"He's going into shock," someone yelled and Spencer frowned. He went to speak but as he moved his tongue and swallowed something got stuck. Spencer's half-lidded eyes flew open when he couldn't find air to breathe in. He convulsed on the ground, gasping for breath and shaking with the pain his movements were causing.

The voices around him picked up and he reached toward one of them... any of them.

* * *

"What's wrong with him!?" The sheriff looked down in horror as the young man's tied wrists reached for his throat before reaching desperately at the closest EMT. His back arched off the ground and a horrible dry rasping sound broke through his broken lips.

"He's choking!" An EMT on the young-man's left grabbed his arm and tried to wrench him on his side as he continued to rasp.

"On what?" The officer who came with the sheriff was frowning. The sheriff just shook his head but he joined the EMT's efforts and gave the young-man a thump on the back. The action received some lethal glares from one or two EMTs.

The young-man's conjoined hands were back to clawing at his throat.

The sheriff gave another thump while an EMT reached into the victim's mouth and pulled out a pink, soggy slip of paper.

"The hell..." muttered the Sheriff who took the paper, stepping back to let the EMTs get back to work. The young-man finally caught his breath but his eyes rolled up into the back of his head when an oxygen mask was secured over his face.

The sheriff thumbed open the piece of paper. In some places the wet paper was still white, in others, blood had saturated it, turning patches of it pink.

More squad cars pulled up as the sheriff stared at the paper. He finally looked up when his deputy joined him. He looked down at the paper the Sheriff was holding and then across at the man they were loading into an ambulance.

"Murray said he wasn't dead. Lucky son of bitch, right?" the deputy said and he looked at the paper again, a little uneasy this time.

"Is Aaron Hotchner in charge of those FBI agents who came in recently?"

The deputy frowned at the Sheriff's question. "I think so. They called him Hotch earlier..." The deputy paused. "Why?"

"Because-" the sheriff started, unfolding the piece of paper and holding it up for his deputy to see. "I just found this, stuffed in the victim's mouth, which had been taped shut." He opened the paper up and turned it to reveal the names written there. "Why does it have _his_ name on it?"

The sheriff pointed to the writing where '_Aaron Hotchner' _was smudged.

* * *

Aaron got to the crime scene before Morgan's car. He slipped out his side while Rossi stayed to look on at the scene through the windows. Aaron paused for Morgan, Emily, and JJ to get out of their car and he looked up to see the Sheriff, Joe Mavers, coming over.

"Sher-"

"You need to see this," Mavers said, interrupting Aaron who scowled as Mavers pulled out an evidence bag.

Morgan came up behind them as Aaron looked back at the evidence bag. "What's goin' on?" Morgan asked and he looked past the sheriff and frowned. "Where's the body?"

Mavers dropped the hand holding the evidence bag, taking it from Aaron's line of vision. Mavers glanced back and said, "the kid was still alive."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Oh..." He looked at Aaron who looked just as shocked. Emily and JJ joined them as Mavers turned back with a grave expression.

"I checked his pulse when I got here, something didn't seem right." Mavers gave a short chuckle. "Guess I was right. He gained consciousness when I took the tape off his mouth."

"How bad was he?" JJ asked, having caught up with what was happening.

The sheriff wrinkled his nose as he recalled the image of the dying young man. "Let's put it this way," Mavers grumbled. "He's in for one hell of a fight."

Morgan exchanged a look with the girls. Rossi stepped out of the car at that point, making his way over to the others slowly.

"Anyway." Mavers fiddled with the evidence bag and passed it to Hotch. "He started to choke after I took the tape off his mouth. This had been put there, by the perp no doubt," Mavers said and he motioned to the bag. Hotch nodded and looked down at it. He turned over the pinkish paper in the bag and froze. He managed to stifle the shaking of his hands but he couldn't make himself look away.

"What..." Morgan took the bag from Aaron who continued to stare. "In his _mouth_?" he said with a touch of venom in his voice.

"What is it?" Emily leaned over Morgan but quickly stepped back. "Oh..." She glanced at Aaron with sad eyes.

Rossi saw Aaron's name on the slightly wet piece of paper and he glanced sharply at Aaron.

"You should probably be on high alert, Hotchner," Mavers said, taking the evidence back. Aaron looked up finally and nodded. He squared his shoulders again, trying to hide the bone-deep terror that had seized him. Despite the people he'd caught or researched throughout his career, he'd always been scared of Meat-Man. He had nightmares of the man coming back for him, and often he'd woken Haley with his nightmares.

"Have you identified the victim?"

Mavers shook his head at Emily. There was silence for a moment. The team looked toward Aaron to see what he wanted them to do next.

Mavers turned back to the scene. "I should get back. Did any of you wanted to check it out?"

"Um-"

"JJ, Rossi, Morgan, you stay and take a look at the scene," Aaron said after clearing his throat. He turned to Emily. "We'll go to the hospital and check on the victim. We'll meet back at the precinct." Without another word, Aaron walked to his car. Rossi just nodded and followed the sheriff.

"Good luck," muttered JJ and Emily smiled.

"You too."

Morgan snorted. "Thanks."

* * *

Emily and Aaron got to the hospital and waited at the front desk for any news on their latest victim.

They hadn't spoken yet and Emily could see that Aaron wasn't about to break their silence so she cleared her throat. "We should talk about... the note," she said. Aaron's eyes snapped quickly to her.

"What more do we need to talk about?"

Emily shrugged but she didn't break eye contact. "This victim was clearly a message to you. The escalation, the note, it's-"

"He's escalating, that's all," Aaron said, interrupting Emily who shook her head stubbornly.

"The unsub is targeting _you_ next. Don't you see how bad this could be? T-This victim was personal and so must you be."

"Wally was personal. The unsub wanted to kill Joe. And Bailey McDonald is in more danger than I am. I hate this as much as they do, but I'm not just going to step aside and watch as he finishes us off." Aaron had stopped looking at Emily. He turned toward the hallway and watched nurses and doctors closely.

"That's not what I'm saying," Emily said. "I'm just... well... you and Rossi- he probably knows who you both are. He's taunting us." Emily looked at Aaron who had his lips pressed together firmly.

"Aaron-" Emily started but the nurse Aaron had been watching raised her head and started to walk toward them. Emily jumped slightly when Aaron walked away from her, ignoring her attempt to start the conversation again.

"Are you the agents?" the nurse asked as she got close to Aaron. She tugged her mask off her face and scrunched it up in her slightly bloody gloved hands before giving a flustered smile. "Sorry."

Aaron just pulled out his badge and Emily followed suit. "How is he?" he asked.

The nurse nodded her head as she said, "he's stable. Nearly lost him a few times on the table but..." She paused and looked Emily up and down, taking in her look of stubborn determination. "I don't think he can answer any questions if that's why you're here."

"We came to check his condition. What can you tell us about his injuries?" Aaron said as he shook his head.

"Oh, that's fine then. He sustained two knife wounds, one was dangerously close to his heart."

"Do you think it was purposely aimed to hit his heart?" Emily asked.

Aaron nodded but didn't look at Emily. "The unsub may have dismembered his early victims but he shows no medical experience. He's sloppy. He was aiming to kill him by stabbing him in the heart. He missed."

Emily glanced at Aaron. She wondered if he and Rossi should even be working the case. She frowned, knowing the answer was a resolute no.

"Not by much," said the nurse. "Any closer and he'd have died in seconds. He was also stabbed in the abdomen. Nicked his small bowel, and with how long he'd been left, he's at high risk of infection but we're keeping a close eye on it. I'm right in believing he wasn't found immediately after he was attacked?"

"Yes," Aaron replied. "He was gagged and tied, and from the unsub's typical MO, he was most likely stabbed at a different location before being left where he was."

"That'll explain why his body tried to shut down so easy," the nurse said, nodding her head as she mused. "He also has deep bruising to his face, arms, and legs. His skull has a slight fracture but his concussion isn't so severe. Oh and one of his teeth was missing."

Aaron glanced at Emily without even thinking about it and she swallowed grimly. That was their unsub alright.

Aaron turned back to the nurse. "Do you know his identity yet?" he asked. It could very well be Bailey... his heart clenched slightly at the thought. Bailey had been such a curious boy, he asked more questions than Spencer and when they got out Aaron had watched him run to his younger sister and cry into her shoulder. Of course it could be any of the boys but Aaron knew, if he was being realistic, that Bailey was the likeliest candidate.

The nurse, however, didn't nod. Her lips twisted slightly. "Not yet," she said. "I understand he could be one of several other young men associated to your case but he didn't have any form of identification on him. We've taken a DNA sample though," she said hopefully. "We'll send the result as soon as it comes through."

"We appreciate that," Emily said and she smiled and turned to Hotch.

He gave a poor attempt at a smile and nodded. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem. I hope you find whoever did this soon..." Aaron looked up at the nurse who looked suddenly sad. "What he did to this young-man..." she shook her head. "It makes you wonder how scared he must have been... awful..."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think in the reviews.**

**See you soon (next Friday) and stay safe.**


	11. Tip of the Iceberg

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thanks Lady Lurena, Yeegaber, AZCatmom, Caroliny Hotchner, fishtrek, R Leaf, and NerdGirl1210 for reviewing the last chapter.**

**This chapter made me cry. I looked up child coffins to get an idea of what Dave and Erin has to purchase for their son. I never want to see a child coffin again. It's so sad. And I hate that it's a reality for some parents**.

**Anyway, this chapter is a somber one, the real drama comes in the next chapter (which may already be written *and may be released earlier than next Friday*.)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

  
**_December 1985  
_**

"Daddy?"

Dave turned back from the light switch and smirked at his son. "No more questions. It's bedtime, kiddo."

Spencer tilted his head to the side and blinked sweetly. "Just one more, daddy. Please."

Dave rolled his eyes but dropped his finger off the light switch. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Go on then, brainiac," he said fondly. Spencer sat up under the covers.

"Um..." Spencer looked down and Dave watched his three-year-old's face become serious and sullen. "Y-you know you save people from the bad guys," he whispered.

Dave frowned a little but answered "yes."

Spencer nodded slowly and he bit his lip. "What about the people you can't save, daddy?"

Dave unfolded his arms and walked back over to his son's bed. The kid was smart but he didn't understand death. Not yet.

"Sometimes," Dave said quietly. "The people we don't save die." He smiled sadly at Spencer who was frowning and looked to be thinking hard.

"Where do they go after that, daddy?"

Dave's smile faultered. "Uh... well..." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "No-one really knows, kiddo. Some people think we go up to heaven or the afterlife."

"With god?" Spencer asked seriously and Dave nodded half-heartedly.

"Yes. But some people believe there is nothing... Uh... I mean, well, they think when we die that's it."

Spencer stared up at his dad with wide eyes. "Is it?" he mumbled.

"I don't know, kiddo. Talking scientifically then you'd _assume_ we would just return to the earth and-"

Dave paused when he saw a big tear roll down Spencer's face. _Crap_.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy. I'm sorry, I'm scaring you."

He reached over and pulled Spencer into his arms and Spencer grabbed onto him suddenly.

"Daddy?" he said with a loud sniff. "Daddy I don't want you to die! Ever! O-or mommy!"

Dave pulled Spencer back but the boy was hugging him so tight that all he could do was rub his back and hush him.

"That's... it'll be a long time before then, kiddo. You'll understand life better."

"But I don't wanna lose you! Don't leave me! Don't ever leave me, daddy!"

"I won't. Hey, it's okay, I won't ever leave you. Me and mommy believe in heaven, so that's where we'll all end up someday. We'll always be together."

Spencer finally pulled away, his eyes puffy and his nose wet. "Really?" he whispered. Dave smiled and nodded.

He chuckled then and pulled Spencer back in for another hug. "We love you too much to ever leave you, Spencer."

"It's just... scary," Spencer whispered.

"I know, but I'll always be here for you. Now, no more crazy questions, you were meant to be going to sleep."

Spencer giggled against Dave's shoulder.

In that moment, the thought of his son's death never crossed Dave's mind. He could never conceive the idea that he may have to bury his own son. The reality of which came true just eight months later. Dave would have to watch with his wife's hand in his as they carefully lowered the three and a half foot coffin into the ground.

* * *

  
**Present**

Aaron felt sick. There was no better way to put it. A deep nausea pulsed through his body. His fingers even felt heavy with it.

His name had been inside that young-man's mouth. Aaron didn't want to think about the fact that their unsub had carefully written out the note before cramming it behind his victim's teeth. It made Aaron wonder what Meat-Man was thinking. Why Aaron? He was no more special than any of the other boys... alive or dead.

Aaron was jolted from his thoughts by a bang and he looked up to see Rossi, a file on the table in front of him.

"You alright?" he asked as Aaron stared up at him. Aaron swallowed back the thick, sick feeling in his throat and he nodded tensely.

"Have they got back to us on the identity?"

Rossi shook his head and glanced back at the door. "Garcia said they were sending it over to her soon. Are you sure-"

"I'm fine," Aaron said stiffly and he forced himself to look at Dave. "Fine. I just needed a moment to think."

"Any ideas who the kid is?"

Aaron shrugged but the nausea throbbing back to the surface of his gut said a different story. "Might be Bailey," he mumbled.

"Likely. He was the last one they took." Rossi studied Aaron for a moment before adding, "thank god he's alive. Good kid."

Dave remembered Bailey giving Erin a flower he'd picked from his garden at Spencer's funeral.

Only a few of the boys came to the funeral, it was too soon and too upsetting for most of the boys... such as Aaron.

"He didn't deserve _this_," Aaron muttered and he pushed up from the table. Dave opened his mouth to argue that that wasn't what he meant but Aaron was already out the door. Dave followed him.

"Prentiss, how is the geographical profile looking?" Hotch said as he looked toward the map Emily was fiddling with. She turned around sheepishly.

"Not totally accurate. I need more time... and more coffee," she said and she smiled and lifted her empty cup, giving it a shake.

Hotch frowned and thought about how useful Reid would be on the case. He'd have to call the kid later.

"Sir?"

Hotch looked up and found JJ holding up their laptop. "Yes?"

"Garcia text, they're sending her the identity. I'll call her now."

* * *

William got home a little shaky. A feeling had started to rise within him and he frowned thoughtfully as he dropped his keys on the table.

"What did you do?"

William looked up from the table and saw Diana, on her knees, her palms covered in blood. William sighed when he stepped further into the light. She hadn't given him chance to clean up and their son's blood was still smeared across the floorboards. Diana was up on her knees, her palms outstretched to William. "It's not his, is it? Not my baby? Where is he? William, where's my baby, please," begged Diana and she fell forward, catching herself on the backs of her palms which she was trying to keep off the floor. She stared down for a long moment before her fiery eyes rose. "William!"

She shifted forward on her knees, dragging her nightdress through the blood.

William smiled and reached a hand toward Diana. He cupped her cheek and she steadied herself on his arm, leaving bloody handprints there. "Darling," he whispered and he teeth poked out from under his lips. "He was only ever temporary."

William dropped her cheek and she nearly crashed to the floor again. That was if the shock hadn't frozen her. "M-my baby," she mumbled, her eyes cloudy.

William nodded sadly, pouting his lips. "Afraid so, my love. But twenty or so years was _plenty_ of time."

Diana fell back numbly, her back hitting their uncarpeted staircase with a painful thump. William paused and glanced back at her. Her light-blue nightdress was covered in blood, the tatty frills at the bottom tie-dyed in the stuff.

He gave another sigh as if what he was about to do was over-indulgence on a spoiled child. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

"I got you something though," he said with a smirk and he threw the small pot at Diana. It rattled and landed with a dull thud against the wall, bouncing close to Diana's thigh. "Just something small, a souvenir if you will."

Diana looked up at her husband and then down at the pot. She turned her head quickly, grabbing the stairs and heaving suddenly.

William shook his head but turned away again. "I thought you'd be happy," he called. "The things I do for you, woman!"

Diana sobbed against the cold stairs, dry blood flaking from between her fingers.

William stretched and started toward the couch when Diana let out a gurgling scream. William laughed loudly, mostly to quiet the feeling that still resided inside him.

William sat down, tuning out the screaming of his wife who was still grasping at the staircase. He frowned and shifted uncomfortably, the dreadful feeling coming back to taunt him. He tried to sit back again and he scowled in thought.

He wasn't in pain... nor was he anxious, he'd never been someone with fragile nerves.

William licked his lips slowly and thoughtfully. He didn't feel nauseous. That wasn't it.

"Y-you bastard! You _unimaginable_ bastard!"

William raised his eyebrows as he glanced in his wife's direction. She collapsed back onto the stairs, gnawing her teeth into the closest step as she whined like a shot animal.

William rolled his eyes and for a moment he imagined his son kneeling beside Diana, his hand on her shoulder.

William stopped for a moment and stared at Diana and a horrifying idea came across him and the feeling swelled inside him.

The feeling was grief.

* * *

"I just got the victims identity sent to me," Penelope said and Aaron noticed how shaky her voice was. He looked up at the laptop to see her face was a picture of unease.

"Garcia?" he said and his eyebrows fell a little. "Was it Bailey?" he asked in a small voice.

Penelope shook her head, her lips pinched tight together as she stared at her monitor. "I-it doesn't make any sense," she whispered, clicking a few times before gasping suddenly, her hand coming up to her mouth.

"Baby girl? What's wrong?"

"It even ha-has his photo."

"Garcia! Will you tell us what's wrong?" Rossi demanded and Penelope looked back up at the video call.

"Something's gone wrong," she said. "It... they've said it's..." Penelope paused and looked back at her other screen as she shook her head. "How is it Reid?" she mumbled.

"_Reid_?" Morgan looked around at the others suddenly and stood up. "What about him? Has he spoken to you? I've been tryna' get ahold of that kid for days."

Aaron was also scowling. "Reid...?" What did Reid have to do with this? He was _supposed_ to be on holiday. Aaron frowned harder. Had the kid called Garcia offering to help with the case? He really needed to teach him how to actually take a holiday.

"It's Reid," Garcia said and she looked directly at Hotch. "_He's_ the victim. They identified the latest victim as Reid! I-I'll send you the report."

Garcia started typing fast before the team could even comprehend what she was saying.

The laptop flashed and a tab filled their screen, overtaking the picture of Garcia.

"You see!?" Garcia said. The team looked back at the report in quiet shock as they read 'William Spencer Reid,' alongside a photograph of their youngest agent.

Aaron stood up then. "What the hell is going on!?"

* * *

**I'll leave it there because shit hits the fan next chapter.**

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think in the reviews. **


	12. Truth

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thanks to Caroliny Hotchner, Anareris, R Leaf, hellomynameisv, AZCatmom, fishtrek, Nivi, Guest, Lady Lunera, and lunadely for reviewing the last chapter.**

**I was trying to get this out earlier but I wasn't feeling it. My cat, who was 19 and who I had grown up with, passed away Sunday night and it ruined all my plans of being early. It really was his time though, I'm just trying to get used to not being able to see him.**

**Anyway, thanks for all your support through this story. Keep letting me know what you think in the reviews.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

"I don't understand," Aaron said slowly. "Why would he attack Reid?"

"M-maybe it's not our unsub," JJ said as she bit down hard on her lip. Her mind was on Spence; she just wanted to see him.

"It's definitely our unsub. Without a doubt," said Morgan as he shook his head. "But Hotch is right. Why the hell was Reid attacked. He has nothing to do with the initial kidnappings."

Emily looked up then. "Spencer was here to visit his parents, right, Morgan? He might have just been in the wrong place... mistaken for another of the boys."

"But why Reid? Unless..." Morgan looked at Aaron. "Maybe he's going after people you know, Hotch."

Rossi was shaking his head at that. "That doesn't fit the profile. Our unsub has only attacked his past victims. He goes out of his way to do so."

"So what are you suggesting?" Morgan asked.

Rossi pressed his head into his hand. "I don't know. But Reid must have been chosen for some reason. Maybe he was connected. How old is he?"

Penelope seemed to wake from her shock because typing could be heard. "He's twenty-five, sir."

"That would make him... three at the time," Emily put in.

"So-" Rossi froze. Three...? _Three_. Reid would have been three.

Emily took over from Rossi who looked lost.

"He didn't take kids that young. Maybe Reid was a failed kidnapping before Hotch... maybe he got away."

_Reid is the same age as my son, _Rossi thought with disbelief, he'd never realised. Reid was a living example of what his son could have been. Rossi made a soft grunting sound in an effort to cover his sudden swell of emotion.

"There were never reports of near-kidnappings linked to the case," muttered Aaron.

"Okay... what about... uh, were there any boys called William who you may have forgotten about. That's Reid's real name," Morgan said but Emily shook her head.

"None of the men on the list are called William." Aaron was nodding his head in agreement. There had never been a William.

"No Reid?"

Aaron shook his head.

JJ lifted her head slowly as the team drifted into silence. A thought caught her suddenly and her stomach felt uneasy. "Spence," she mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Spencer," JJ said, loudly this time. Rossi turned his head toward her, his brows set low. "What about Spencer?"

Aaron stared at JJ and blinked slowly. Of course there was a Spencer. Spencer Rossi... Aaron glanced over to Dave who was frowning hard. But the only Spencer there was dead now...

Emily gasped. "He would have been three," she whispered. She looked up at Dave who was glaring back.

"No."

Aaron's eyes widened. It couldn't be... _could it?_ He turned to look at Rossi. "Reid was three... his name is Spencer. Dave do you think...?"

Rossi shook his head vehemently. "The unsub is clearly delusional. He must of found Reid and was reminded of my son. That's it."

Morgan scoffed at that and folded his arms. "And he just so happens to pick one of Hotch's agents?"

"What you're trying to suggest is more proposterous. My son is dead. This is a case of mistaken identity which Reid has fallen foul to."

Aaron turned to Garcia who was nervously listening from behind the screen. He met her eyes. "Garcia," he started but she'd already nodded and started to type.

Rossi unfolded his arms and pushed up from the table. "What are you doing?" he demanded, frightening Garcia as she typed faster. "Aaron!"

"I am just as confused as you are," Aaron said, turning and coming nearly face to face with Dave.

"Reid's birth certificate says he was born March ninth 1981... t-that would make him... twenty-six," Penelope said.

Rossi found himself letting out a sigh of relief. "There you go, he's older than my son," he said.

Aaron frowned. "But that doesn't explain anything. Meat- the unsub's youngest victim was three, the rest of us were all much older. There is only one boy from then that matches Reid's age and name."

"And he's dead," Rossi snapped sharply.

"Spence always told me he was born in 1982," JJ said. She was frowning too. Morgan nodded. "And I'm sure his birthday is in October... right, when did we celebrate his last one? Late October?"

Aaron and Derek glanced over at Rossi who had grown significantly paler.

"When was your son's birthday?" JJ asked quietly.

Rossi didn't say anything for a long moment before, in a cracked voice, he said, "October twenty-eighth... 1982."

No-one spoke after that, they didn't know where to look either. Morgan, however, managed to look back at the laptop screen. Garcia was looking back at him, her expression appearing haunted.

"Baby girl?"

"I-I found a photo... o-of Reid when he was four o-or five... it... i-it-"

"What's wrong?"

"Dave... what did the unsub send you a few days ago?"

Although they were no longer there, Rossi could feel the invisible presence of his son's baby-teeth in his back pocket. "Spencer's teeth," he mumbled. Garcia closed her eyes and nodded.

"You should see this then..." she typed a few keys before another tab filled their screen.

Rossi gripped the table when a photo of a young boy in a shabby shirt and brown corduroy popped up on screen. He noticed instantly the startling similarities between this child and his own but since his son's death, he'd always looked at other children and imagined his own son alongside them. And he hadn't seen his son in over two decades, his memories were getting cloudy.

The child in the photo wasn't looking toward the camera. His eyes were looking at something behind the camera and his smile, if one could call it a smile, was forced. Dave felt his breath catch for a moment.

The smile... the child had no teeth.

* * *

**_May 3rd 1983_**

Rossi got home from work to loud crying. He sighed and hung his coat up, getting his shoes out of the way before stepping into the living room where Erin was cradling there son.

"Hey?" Rossi said quietly as Spencer shifted unhappily against Erin's shoulder. She turned and tried her best to smile. She glanced at Spencer with a sad look.

"Teething has been rough today," she said with a slight roll of her eyes. She glanced behind her and gave Dave a sympathetic smile. "Would you take him," she mumbled. "I haven't started dinner yet."

"Sure. Come here, kiddo," Dave said, offering his arms toward Erin who passed over the baby before quickly hurrying to the kitchen. Dave watched her for a moment and patted Spencer's back. The baby started to fuss again so Dave turned away and started toward his office.

"Shhh, come on now, ace, what's all this noise for?"

Dave turned into his office and sat heavily in the chair behind his desk. He shifted his son so that he was looking up at him and Dave's smile fell a little when he saw how sad Spencer looked.

"Aw, you're breaking my heart, kiddo."

Rossi sighed and rocked Spencer for a minute but the boy still writhed miserably in his arms. After some time trying to calm Spencer down, a smile spread across Dave's lips and he swivelled around in his chair and reached for the drinks cabinet.

"Don't tell mommy," Dave whispered as he placed a half-full bottle of whiskey on the desk. With his arm still wrapped safely around his son, he unscrewed the bottle-cap with embarrassing ease. Rossi glanced toward the door and smiled in relief that Erin wasn't close by.

"Here, buddy," he said, pulling the bottle to his chest and tipping it up against his finger. "My mum used to do this when I was teething," he whispered, placing the whiskey back on the table and carefully poking his finger into his son's mouth. He gently rubbed the liquid against Spencer's red gums, grabbing the whiskey again to rub more on his top gums.

Spencer whined at the intrusive action but when Dave pressed his fingers to his gums a second time he sucked thoughtfully at the strange new flavour.

He stopped crying too. He looked up at his father with a frown and Rossi laughed. "Good isn't it? I guess I know what to get you on your eighteenth." Rossi squinted at the whiskey bottle and whistled. "And you have expensive taste too, don't ya?"

Dave grinned down at Spencer and the baby made a happy noise. He attempted a smile like his dad's and Rossi beamed back at him.

Rossi glanced down again, thinking he'd seen something in his son's sweet smile. He broke into an even wider grin of his own when he confirmed his suspicions.

"Huh, how didn't I feel that. Tooth number one, bambino!" he cried, lifting Spencer under the arms and holding him high in the air. "You did it! You got your first tooth, buddy!"

Spencer giggled as he looked down at his father's happy face. He kicked his feet a little as he reached toward his dad's goatee.

Rossi was still smiling proudly as he brought Spencer back down onto his chest. The baby quickly scrunched his fingers into Dave's shirt while Dave ran his fingers through Spencer's light curls. The only thing he was thinking about was that Erin was going to be the tooth-fairy in their family.

* * *

**_May 1986_**

Joe Robert's sat with his knees pressed together as he watched the door at the top of the stairs.

Meat-Man had taken Ralph yesterday and Joe hadn't spoken to the other boys since.

The youngest kid, Spencer he thinks he's called, had been asking so many questions. That was until Wally had slapped the kid.

He hadn't liked that. The kid, who couldn't have been older than a toddler, had sat in a corner, crying to himself.

Sure, Joe felt bad for him, but he wanted to go home just as bad. Besides, if Meat-Man had heard the kid would probably have gone upstairs by now.

They sat in silence for several more minutes before the door above creaked and quiet footsteps came into being.

Joe looked up and let out a sigh.

"Don't move!" The voice belonging to the footsteps cried. The kid emerged from the stairs with a gun raised. Joe shivered, the kid was about five and he was holding a bright silver gun at him.

"Oh, new kid! Cool."

The boy walked over to Spencer who raised his small hands upon sight of the gun.

"Leave him alone."

The boy, who they only knew as the kid from upstairs, swung around, bringing the gun with him. He glared at Joe. "I do what I want," he said.

"Yea well... just leave him alone," Joe said and he eyed the gun. A kid that young shouldn't touch something as powerful as that.

The kid from upstairs frowned. "Why?"

Joe shrugged. "He's little," he said with a glance toward Spencer who had pulled his head up slightly.

"So."

"So just leave him alone, and give us all a break, kid. You live up there, you're safe."

The boy from upstairs grinned. "Yea," he mumbled and he stepped away from Spencer.

"Pa says we're getting another kid soon. Maybe you can be friends with 'im."

Joe snorted and looked away. "Thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

"Piss off."

The boy from upstairs whipped around, raising his gun at Wally who had spoken. Wally just glared back at him. "You can't say that to me!"

"I just did. Now go away! Meat-man won't let you kill us, he likes it too much," sneered Wally and he narrowed his eyes. "Do you hear him at night," he hissed. "Probably pleasures himself to the sounds of our screams."

There was a groan of disgust in the room and Joe shot Wally a glare. "Dude."

"What, it's probably true. He's sick."

The boy from upstairs had lowered the gun but he was watching Wally.

"I'll make sure _you're_ next," he said and Wally, rather childishly, stuck his tongue out.

"Go ahead, bet you're his toy-boy anyway. Freakin' perv."

The boy from upstairs frowned, clearly not understanding and he turned and wandered back upstairs, slamming the door behind him. They all heard the click of the lock and that's when Joe swivelled around to scowl at Wally.

"You wanna die?"

Wally's eyes went wide. "No..."

"Then stop annoying him. You'll get all of us killed."

There was a snort from across the room and Joe looked up to see Anthony shaking his head.

"We're already dead."

* * *

  
**Present**

The news was still slowly sinking in in the small conference room set up by the station.

Rossi shook his head at the photo and nearly laughed bitterly. Instead he just scowled.

"Rossi... I hate to admit it but I think... maybe Reid is your son."

"You're wrong."

"Spence wouldn't be targeted otherwise, your son is the only one that matches."

Emily nodded. "Reid was clearly supposed to be a personal kill for the unsub. That's why he stabbed him twice, took his tooth and sent a message to Aaron through him. I-If he is your son then it would make sense that the unsub would want to go overkill, Reid's outsmarted him for twenty-two years... and you."

"We need to look into this more," said Aaron as he looked across at Dave who's fists were shaking at his sides. "You should do a paternity test with Reid to-"

"No!" JJ and Aaron jumped and looked up at Rossi.

He turned, leering back at the team. "You know," he said. "I think it's sickening. You... all of you, lying, trying to convince me I still have a son-a-a _living_ son!"

"We would-"

"Save it! It's admirable, truly; the lengths you're willing to go. Is Reid in on this? Just because the kid has daddy issues doesn't mean you have to give him a new one! He is not my son. My son was murdered. He is dead." Rossi paused, his lips curling up slightly in his anger. "Dead!" he shouted. "Me and my wife will not play happy families with yours and Reid's sick-"

Aaron stood so sharply that Rossi jumped back, forgetting his words. Aaron glared at him. "What _is_ sickening, David, is the fact that you believe any of us capable of contorting a lie like that!" he yelled. Rossi clamped his hands on the table and leaned across it to sneer at Aaron.

"I believe _you_ capable of many things," he spat. Aaron's brow lowered fiercely.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Morgan also pulled himself up from his chair but Rossi and Hotch were too busy glaring each other down to notice. "Reid was targeted, Rossi. How in the hell do you explain that? The unsub only targets victims, Spencer has to be a victim and-"

"Don't call him Spencer," Rossi hissed, glancing briefly at Morgan. "His name is William."

Morgan was about to protest again but Aaron was faster. "You better start listening soon, Reid is now an integral part of this case and whether you like it or not, we're checking yours and his DNA."

Rossi shook his head. "What is it, Aaron?" he asked, his voice so soft it startled Aaron. "Is it guilt? Is that why you're doing this? After all those years and you _still_ feel guilty for what you did." His voice grew a sharp edge and Aaron gritted his teeth.

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"I know what you did."

Aaron felt his chest tighten as he looked back into Rossi's angry but terribly grief-stricken eyes.

Rossi spoke again and his voice broke slightly. "I know how you ran and left him. You all got out and left a _three-year-old child_ behind."

Aaron looked away.

"He couldn't reach the window!" Rossi's voice crumbled and he reached a hand up to cover his eyes. "H-he couldn't reach..." he whispered, unable to pull a sob back. Aaron retreated from the table and turned away.

The rest of the team were watching Dave with sad eyes. They all started to feel guilty as Rossi breathed shakily.

Aaron's eyes stung with tears. He remembered when he realised Spencer wasn't with them. The sickening feeling he had that night crept back over him as he pictured Spencer reaching up to the window.

"Thank you-" Aaron turned his head at the sound of Rossi's voice. The team looked back up at him. "For all of your concern but I am aware of my son's fate. There really is nothing more to it."

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**I really liked writing that argument. Things were so tense, someone was gonna break. Before anyone says Rossi was really harsh, just remember he's mainly driven by grief and revenge right now, he's not his usually calm self.**

**See you next Friday.**


	13. The Father

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Sorry for the delay. This week has been crazy, I worked from Monday till Thursday, packed when I got home each night and then left for my final year in uni. So I've been moving in yesterday and today, but next week will be back on Friday, if not sooner.**

**Thanks to for reviewing everyone who reviewed the last chapter. **

**Please keep letting me know your thoughts in the comments. I love to know what you like or don't like and any suggestions are always interesting to see.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

JJ followed Derek into the hospital as he marched to the desk, his fists clenched at his sides and his jaw set tightly. She paused when she heard kids yelling from the shop and she glanced at the array of balloons, flowers and 'get well soon' cards. She pursed her lips and turned away.

She got to the desk as the receptionist pointed down a hallway.

"He's in the ICU," Derek said, his voice tight as if trying to hold something back.

JJ nodded solemnly. "Can we... see him? A-are they allowing visitors?" she asked.

"We can look in and talk to his doctor, she said no visitors though," he said.

"Alright," JJ said and she sighed before walking down the hall the receptionist had pointed to.

Derek led the way up a flight of stairs and past several wards before stopping and flashing his badge to a security guard outside of the ICU.

"Come on," he said and he tried to smile at JJ who had been looking at the floor.

A doctor stopped them as they walked inside and Morgan flashed his badge again.

"Spencer Reid," he said and then he paused. "William... uh, the latest victim on the eighty-six kidnapping case?"

The doctor's face fell slightly with understanding and he gave a curt nod. "What do you need to know, agents?"

JJ looked up and turned her head slowly to Morgan, waiting for him to say something. He stammered for a moment before managing to clear his throat.

"W-we were hoping to see him?" he said and the doctor frowned again.

"I'm afraid he can't have visitors at-"

"No..." JJ said suddenly and she bit hard into her gum when the doctor's glare fell upon her. "We just want to look. Can we just take a look, to make sure h-he's okay?"

JJ dug her nail into her palm as her eyes started to burn again. The doctor eyed her warily.

"If you really do insist."

"We do," said Morgan quickly.

"Well... you can 'look.' Follow me."

He turned abruptly on his heel and started down the hall. JJ and Morgan glanced at each other and followed the sweeping coat tailing after the doctor. He stopped at a door with a thick window.

"He's in there. You can look, but I can't allow you to go in," he said, stepping out from the way of the window. JJ walked forward and her eyes started to burn again.

"Oh god, Derek."

Morgan stepped to the side of JJ so he could also look through the window and his face fell at the sight before him. If he had any doubt before it was well and truely gone. It was most certainly Reid in that bed. The poor kid had been placed on a ventilator, the plastic strap holding it in place obscured his mouth, only making the sight more frightening. There were black stitches standing out on his face and the red skin encompassing the stitches was a stark contrast to the rest of Spencer's paleness.

"I didn't think..." JJ started but her voice grew too thick with emotion to continue. She lifted her hand to her lips and just shook her head.

They could both only imagine the damage the hospital gown obscured. _Two_ stab wounds... Morgan started to shake his head too. _Why Reid? _he thought bitterly.

The kid was connected to several serious pieces of medical equipment and Morgan quietly counted each and followed the wires to Reid's hand, nose, and chest.

JJ's hand moved from her mouth and she pressed her fingers to the glass longingly. "I just want to see him," she murmured.

"Me too. If I had any idea-"

"Yea..."

Morgan gave a small grunt to mask his emotions. He put his hand on JJ's shoulder, making her turn. He attempted a smile.

"We should get back to the team. We're no good to him right now."

JJ didn't nod, she glanced back at the window. "I-I want time stay," she said and she smiled back at Morgan. "Just... just be close, you know. It'll make me feel better."

Morgan smiled sadly too. "Yea, okay. I'll..." Morgan paused and shifted his gaze to the window and said, "we'll stay for a bit. Keep an eye on boy genius"

JJ gave a genuine smile and nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Morgan and JJ got back to the police station a while later and found Emily waiting for them. She stood up instantly.

"How is he?"

Emily's eyes were wide as she looked at JJ's red face.

"Alive," Morgan said. He glanced across at the conference room where Hotch and Rossi were still sat, silent in their thoughts. Hotch was looking toward the map while Dave glared at his hands. "They been out?" he asked gruffly but Emily shook her head.

"Not yet. They were talking a while ago but Rossi started yelling and they've been like that ever since."

Morgan grimaced. "How did you get on?"

"The crime scene was awful... there was so much blood," Emily said, her voice declining into a low whisper.

Morgan nodded. "He doesn't look great."

Emily lent back on the desk behind her and her hands rose to scrub at her face. "God," she muttered. "How did this happen?"

"I'd like to know too," said Morgan as he stood beside Emily and leaned into the desk. JJ quickly wiped at her eyes and she made gave a valiant smile.

"He'll be okay," she said. "He's got so much more to do, so... he'll be fine."

Morgan looked up at JJ with a serious look on his face.

"He won't be _fine_, did you not see him!?" Morgan shut his mouth shut with a definite clamp of his teeth and he glared across the room at Rossi and Hotch. "And those two clearly don't care that it's _Reid_ we're talking about."

Morgan shook his head and got off the desk. He looked back at JJ to see angry tears in her eyes. He was about to say something but JJ angrily wiped at her fast falling tears.

"He _will_ be alright," she snapped. "Because... because if he's not-" her voice cut off with a squeak and Emily got up to go to her. She turned and started walking away. Neither looked back at Morgan.

"Crap." Morgan shook his head and leaned back on the desk. He had to be realistic. Reid was in ICU. He wasn't going to be 'okay.'

He got back up and started after the girls when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out and smiled. "Baby girl..." he muttered as he answered the call.

"Talk to me, baby girl."

Morgan paused, waiting for Penelope to take a deep breath.

"Spencer-" she mumbled.

Morgan grit his teeth and glanced in the direction Emily and JJ had left in. He breathed out slowly and said, "he'll be okay. We need to figure out why this happened to him."

Garcia's relieved sigh echoed down the line. "Good... good, that's really good. Can you get to the laptop? I want to see you."

"Yea, sure." Morgan stood and looked around the room. He saw the laptop emblazoned with their logo and he grabbed it, flipping it open quickly and waiting for Penelope to work her magic. Her face came on screen within seconds and he saw the red discolouring her cheeks, and the lines creeping up her eyes. She smiled and Morgan grinned back, making her laugh.

"Stop," she whispered.

"Sorry."

Garcia sighed and her smile dropped again. "Back to it then," she said.

"I-I don't know what I've found," she said after a long pause and her voice shook with every word.

Morgan made the effort to smile. "This case is getting worse... and with pretty boy wrapped up in it-" Morgan shook his head, his smile faltering. "I don't know what to think about it all either."

"It's just... well, it's making more sense but at the same time it's weird." Penelope sighed and looked at Derek. "The things I've found are really disturbing, Derek. I-I mean Spencer a-and his parents..."

Derek lifted the laptop up and moved away from the desk. He went quickly into an empty room and shut the door. He set the laptop down again and took a seat in front of it.

"Shoot," he said.

Garcia looked down anxiously. "Um... so um, I was Uh... thinking about the whole Rossi being Spencer's dad and..." Garcia swallowed quickly and shook her head just as fast. "Obviously t-that's not possible. Rossi said himself so um... I focused on just looking into Reid. It's weird that he was born 1981 because he's always said he was born 1982... but I mean... maybe-" Penelope dropped her head into her hand. "I don't know," she murmured and Derek watched her with his lips pressed together.

"Forget about that," he said. He waited for Garcia to look back up at him before he said, "what did you find?"

"Uh... everything else he told us seems fine. Graduated high school at twelve. His three PhD's... everything checks out. So I looked into his parents."

Morgan nodded along quietly as Garcia avoided looking at him.

"Diana was diagnosed very early with schizophrenia. Just a few months after Reid was born. She was medicated until... well it's funny because there's a lapse in her medication."

Morgan cut in then. "Reid said that she went off the pills for a few years because they made her too tired to care for him."

"Oh..." Garcia squinted at her screen. "She didn't go to any appointments either for... well, her last appointment was October 1985 and then she went back January 1987."

Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise: he wasn't aware she'd gone un-medicated for so long.

"Then everything seems normal. She went in more regularly and it evened out when Spencer left. She hasn't been institutionalised though."

"I don't think Reid could ever do that to her," Morgan said. "Or his dad."

"Ah, now that's my second point. His dad. He's been working for the same law firm since 1978. He's now a partner in the business."

Morgan wasn't sure what made him say it, but he asked, "were there any lapses in his employment?"

"Uh... no, it all looks normal. But... well, he's had a few arrests, they've all been covered up."

Morgan sat closer on his chair.

"In 1981 he was arrested for assault but it was covered up quickly."

"What happened?"

Garcia grimaced. "He uh... smashed a bottle and attacked someone with it."

"Jesus," Morgan muttered and Garcia nodded grimly.

"He wasn't drinking either which is..."

"He didn't have an excuse," Morgan said.

"Yea. He was arrested again in 1987 for strangling his receptionist and scratching her face. He did a few weeks for that before getting bailed out. There's more after that but they've all been hidden well."

Morgan snorted. "It wouldn't look good on his record," he said and he sighed and shook his head.

"Spencer's dad is a bit sketchy," Garcia said.

Morgan smirked. "Don't worry, I've heard stories about that guy," he said and Penelope looked up from her other screens. Morgan cleared his throat and said, "from Reid. And, well, the way he acts when anything is brought up about his dad-"

"No team-profiling," Garcia said and they both smiled.

"Yea, we still do it. Reid gets all tense when he talks about him. He was dreading..." Morgan paused and frowned. "Dreading his week off with him," he mumbled. Garcia was watching him through the screen.

"His dad..." Morgan muttered thoughtfully and he glanced around to look through the room's windows. He saw Emily with JJ, rubbing her back and talking softly. He also caught sight of Rossi talking with the sheriff.

"His dad is... is... oh"

Morgan turned back to the screen and he and Garcia shared a look of disdain. "You don't think," Garcia started and Morgan nodded quickly.

"We need to tell Rossi."

"Y-you guy need to go find him!" Garcia said.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**Only a short chapter. I've been busy, but things will get better soon.**

**See you soon.**


	14. Fathers

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thank you to lunadely, fishtrek, Caroliny Hotchner, and Cherubim for reviewing the last chapter.**

**Please keep reviewing. **

**Here's chapter 14, enjoy.**

* * *

**_August 1987_**

"_Put them in, boy. I won't ask you again."_

_Spencer shrunk back from his father but he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small plastic crescent-shaped box. He glanced back up at his father who was still glaring. Spencer popped the box open and pulled out the cheap dentures. With a wince he forced them into his small mouth and over the tiny buds of his adult teeth, still not having come through yet._

_Spencer looked back up and his dad was grinning but not in a pleasant way and it made Spencer's insides squirm. "Come on, boy, give me a smile."_

_Spencer forced a smile but his brows stayed low and angry. "Good," muttered William and he turned back to the aisle just as the familiar face he'd been expecting rounded the corner._

_"Will?"_

_Spencer looked at his father as he gave a charming smile and offered his hand to the broader man._

_"Is that Earl Makintosh or do my eyes deceive me?"_

_Both men chuckled and Spencer took a step back. Earl saw him and plastered a cheesy smile on his face which was nearly as fake as Spencer's._

_"Ah, this your boy?"_

_William turned and his face dropped suddenly from a smile and he snapped his fingers. His dirty smile was back as soon as he turned back to Earl and he gave Spencer a hard pat on the head._

_"Yea, this is junior." William looked down, grit his teeth and added, "little scamp," in a rough voice._

_"Well hasn't he changed? When was the last I saw him? Was he two? His hair looks lighter... and hasn't he grown."_

_"I think you're right. He's six now. He's gonna be taller than his old man that's for sure."_

_Both men laughed and were oblivious to Spencer's frown. He was four, two months from five, but four all the same... why... why would his dad say that... unless he forgot... but forgetting two years..._

_Earl has started talking about something else and Spencer quickly shook his head of his thoughts of neglect and he shuffled forward to listen._

_"You took the 86 case didn't you?"_

_Earl nodded and leaned close. "You were right, something definitely not right about the Rossi fella'. He seems so desperate it's almost... well-." Earl lowered his voice a bit more and his whiskery moustache fluttered against his breath. "To me it looks like an act."_

_Spencer looked at his father and saw his ratty head nod. "There is something wrong with that man. I've seen him on TV and there's no emotion, it's as if he forgot he had a son at all."_

_"Oh yes, just what I thought, especially that book he just published, he's making money on this." Earl paused and looked down to see Spencer watching them. He cleared his throat and adjusted his belt around his large middle. "Well, I'm glad you directed me to that case, Will. I did try to advice Mr. Rossi but he was very firm about who he trusts. He has a small team." Earl lowered his voice again. "Biggest bunch of wimps I ever did see. Shame really, I could've done with a pay-check from him."_

_"You win some you lose some. At least you could say you had your doubts about him when the truth really comes out."_

_"Trust me, I will be ready to defend whoever he tries to throw under the bus."_

_Spencer was scowling up at Earl now. He didn't like this guy one bit, if his appearance, with his dirty fingernails, and greasy round face hadn't been enough to put him off, his personality sure was doing the trick._

_"Anyway," William said and he glanced distastefully at his son. "I should get him back to his mother. She'll be wondering where we are."_

_Earl smiled broadly. "Ah, give Diana my love."_

_Spencer stopped listening until Earl finally turned his rotund behind and continued down the aisle._

_Spencer was actually more interested in the tools in front of him. He was examining the numbers against their description until thin fingers curled around his arm._

_"Ow," he cried suddenly, trying to pull his arm back. He stopped stuggling when he saw his father's angry face staring back at him. "D-dad?"_

_"That was my friend. Don't you think it would have been polite to say hello?"_

_Spencer swallowed quickly._

_"I didn't raise a fucking brat!"_

_Spencer flinched when his father raised his hand. William looked around the empty aisle quickly before delivering a sharp slap across his son's face. Spencer yelped suddenly and William grabbed his mouth._

_"That was mercy, boy. You better start praying in the car because there will be no mercy when we get home."_

* * *

**Present**

Aaron glanced at Dave, his eyes lingering for a moment before going back to the road. The older agent still didn't speak.

Aaron didn't say anything but he cleared his throat.

"I have nothing to say."

Aaron turned to look at Rossi before his eyes settled back on the road. "Dave-" he started but Rossi's gruff voice cut him off before he could say another word.

"Stop, just stop. I thought you of all people would understand my feelings on this case." He looked toward the window. "It's horrible what's happened to Reid, I'm worried for him, he's too smart to die, ya know? But we just have to rule out the possibility that he's the latest victim. He must have been attacked by someone else. You've seen what this unsub can do, this is light in comparison."

"Meat-Man would dismember the kids, but he's dealing with adults now. And Wally only died from blunt force trauma to his head. We need to stop looking at what the case _was_, we've changed and so has he, and Reid, for whatever reason, _was_ the next victim."

Dave looked across at Aaron and the firey look on his face. He let out a deep breath. "What did you call him?" he asked and Aaron glanced at him, his brow still low.

"Who?"

"The unsub."

Aaron paused and glared out at the road. "That's... we called him that, when we were down there," he muttered.

Rossi nodded and looked back out of the window. "You should stop calling him that, it humanises him too much."

The car was quiet then, just the hum of the engine filling the tense space around the two agents.

Aaron looked at the turning briefly ahead of them and without another thought he turned down it.

"I thought we were going to speak to the witnesses," Rossi said as he glanced back at the crossing.

Aaron shook him head and said, "I'll have Emily and Morgan deal with that. This is more important."

* * *

"Emily!" Morgan ran from the office he'd been hiding in and grabbed onto Emily before she got to the kitchen. She gave him a look of annoyance and tried to pull her arm from his hand but Morgan gripped tighter. "Where's JJ?" he asked breathlessly.

"Oh, did you want to shout at her some more?" Emily said and she cocked an eyebrow, to compliment her sarcasm.

Morgan rolled his eyes making Emily yank her arm away from him. Morgan quickly grasped at her again.

"No, no, just listen, please."

Emily turned and stared at him with a look of pure venom. That was until she saw how desperate he looked. Her folded arms fell. "What?" she asked.

Morgan took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Just assume everything that's been suggested is true... that Reid is Rossi's son, okay?"

"Okay," Emily said slowly. Morgan nodded and took another quick breath.

"So that would mean that Spencer Rossi survived... as Reid... but think about it, if Spencer Rossi survived then surely the kidnappers made that choice. The unsub must have staged his death in order to have kept Spencer alive."

Emily was frowning. "I'm not really following," she said.

"Just come with me."

Morgan hurried back to the office he'd been camping in and after a moments hesitation Emily followed. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to JJ telling her where to find them.

Morgan closed the door behind Emily and pointed to the laptop.

"Hey, Em."

"Hey, Garcia, are you and Morgan on the same wavelength right now because I'm not," Emily said to the computer screen where Penelope was grimacing.

"Uh kinda, we think it's Reid's dad," she said and Emily's eyes widened.

"Reid's dad?"

"I uh... hadn't got to that bit yet, baby girl," Morgan said with a half-smile and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

Penelope shrunk back in her chair with an apologetic smile. "Oh, sorry."

Emily had already turned on Morgan. "What's she talking about?"

"Well, if we're assuming Reid is Rossi's son and he was attacked by the unsub then we need to know who was last with Reid. He's been staying at his parents this week. And he's been texting me this week so I can confirm that."

"A-and Reid's dad is so sketchy," Penelope added. "He's been arrested for assault a lot of times and some of the things he was accused of match the sort of things attacks on our unsub's victims."

The door opened and Morgan turned suddenly, his face frantic. JJ frowned back at him as she shut the door.

"What's wrong with you?" she said and she glanced at Emily who was shaking her head. "What?"

"Tell her, Derek," Emily said.

"Don't you believe us?"

"I really don't know what to believe anymore."

Morgan glared at Emily as she shrugged and he let out a heavy sigh. He glanced JJ's way.

"Look, just hear me out for a minute." JJ blinked slowly but she nodded at Morgan. "If Reid is Rossi's son-"

JJ looked at Emily who was biting her nails.

Morgan breathed deeply. "Then who the hell are the people who raised Reid?"

* * *

Dave stood in the doorway, staring at the young man in the bed.

Aaron, though also shocked by the state of his youngest agent, stepped forward and took the seat closest to Reid's bedside.

Surprisingly, it was Dave who spoke first. "I forgot," he mumbled. Aaron looked up and waited for what Rossi had to say next.

"I forgot what the kid meant to the team. Seeing him like this... why him, Aaron?"

"You don't want me to answer that," Aaron muttered and he looked back at Reid. The kid's eyes were darker than usual and made it look as if he had dark rings around his pale skin. There was still blood in his slightly wavy hair. Aaron stared at him, trying to conjure the image of Spencer Rossi who he had watched over in that basement. He looked at the young-man's closed eyes, his frail arms, gaunt face, messy hair, but he couldn't pull anything from it except a broken kid.

When he looked up he found Rossi stood on the other side of Reid, looking down at him.

"I wish I could see his eyes," Dave said. Aaron raised his head and tried to meet Dave's distant gaze. He could see his eyes were wet as they took in the sight of Reid.

"Aaron?"

"Yes?"

Rossi swallowed audibly and his eyes found Aaron's. "I-if he is... if he is my boy," he said and his voice cracked. "Then how have I not seen it?"

"Dave-"

"He's been right in front of me this whole time," Rossi mumbled and he sat down heavily in the chair opposite, his fingers gently pushing Spencer's hair from his face.

"If it's true then I've been just as blind," Aaron said. He carefully let go of Spencer's hand and patted his arm.

"I just don't understand," Rossi whispered, picking up Spencer's hand. "How could this happen?"

Aaron stood up and shook his head. Rossi wasn't expecting an answer so he hadn't looked up. He was staring down at Spencer, letting this new image of his son consume him.

Aaron moved toward the door to give Dave privacy. He stayed to watch though, still in disbelief that Reid could potentially be the dead child whom he'd carried guilt and grief for over the past two decades.

Aaron looked away from Dave for a moment and looked down at his phone. He smile turned sour and he scowled at the message blinking back at him.

'_Reid's dad did this. Get back now.'_

Aaron stared at Morgan's message and lifted his head slowly to Dave and Spencer. Reid's dad... but...

Aaron looked at Reid's face and he felt sick.

"This whole time," he mumbled.

"Hmm?"

Aaron flicked his gaze to Dave. "We need to go."

"But Spe... Reid?" Dave looked down at Reid's hand in his.

"We can come back. I-I think Morgan's found something."

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**Please let me know what you thought in the reviews.**

**See you next week.**


	15. Caught

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters) **

**Thanks to fishtrek, Caroliny Hotchner, Cherubim22, R Leaf, livvy1843, and pallyndrome for reviewing the last chapter.**

**Enjoy.**

Rossi and Hotch stared back at Morgan, both sharing a similar look of confusion. Dave was sat down, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly but Aaron hadn't even managed to take a seat.

"Reid's dad?" Aaron asked and Morgan nodded. He had started to sweat, all of his explaining was making him doubt himself. "You think he attacked Reid?"

"Without a doubt," Penelope said and her voice squeaked.

"And that he is responsible for the attack on Joe, Wally and Bailey?"

Morgan nodded and to his surprise so did Rossi. The old man was looking more grim than before.

"Maybe Reid's Dad is attempting to copy-cat... maybe that's why he attacked Reid, he might have got in the way of his plans."

"Uh... that's not exactly what we're saying," said Garcia.

"You still don't think he's your son?"

Dave looked up at Morgan and he pressed his fingers to his temple.

"I don't know... I thought..." he shook his head. "I should never have got my hopes up. You could be right though, Reid's dad could be the copycat."

"Or the real thing," Emily muttered.

Aaron shot her a look. "So you believe this too?"

"We found some more things while you were gone," said Emily and she grimaced. "William Reid could be the _original_ killer here."

"Go on then," Dave said in a low grumbling voice. "What has you so convinced."

"Alright." Emily turned to the second laptop JJ had got them and pulled open two tabs. "This is your son's birth certificate," she said, motioning to the one on the left. "This is Reid's."

Rossi glanced at them for a moment. They both had different dates, confirming his son was younger than Reid.

"Neither certificate is fake. That means they are two separate people," Morgan said.

Dave looked across at Aaron and he shrugged. "You're not proving anything."

Morgan raised his head. "They _are_ two people. There's William Reid Jr. and Spencer Rossi. Rossi, could you positively identify your son after he was killed?"

Dave paused and sat uncomfortably for a moment. He wet his lips and muttered, "no."

"Because he was too badly burnt and the unsub had removed all his teeth," Emily said and she grimaced at the look of horror on Rossi's face. "There was no real knowing of who that child was."

Rossi started to shake his head. "My son didn't come home like the other boys. He was the only child left there, that was his body."

"Sir, did you read the coroners initial report?"

Rossi's gaze flicked down to the computer screen broadcasting Penelope. "Y-Yes," Rossi said, stumbling over his words slightly.

"The coroner believed the child to be four or five," she said quietly. "Your son was only three a-and you said yourself that he was small for his age."

Rossi tried to open his mouth but he couldn't manage to pry it open. He couldn't remember the coroner's report. He only remembered knowing his son hadn't come home... knowing there was only one boy left in the basement and only one body found there.

"William Reid Jr. would have been five," Garcia said.

Rossi still couldn't speak. He looked at Morgan and then Emily. Emily looked away and JJ spoke up instead.

JJ's voice was soft when she spoke and she turned her attention to Aaron. "Hotch, do you remember anyone else there? All the kidnapped boys talk about a man and a wife... Wally, Joe and Fraser mentioned a kid from upstairs in their statements-"

"Oh god." Aaron's hand flew to his forehead and he found himself sinking into the chair closest to Rossi. "Oh my god."

"Aaron?" Dave looked across at Aaron who's gaze was too distracted with thought to notice him.

JJ exchanged a glance with Morgan and Emily before she stepped closer to Aaron.

"You do remember?" she murmured and Aaron nodded.

"I-I forgot about him," he mumbled and he turned to Dave. His eyes were wet. "Spencer was helping to keep a lookout for him and the unsub when we got out. He was this kid who lived upstairs, he came down with a gun a couple of times when I was there, threatened to shoot us. W-we thought he was meat- the unsub's son. I-I never thought..."

There was a long silence then while Aaron sat shaking his head, his eyes welling with tears.

A pinging sound came from Garcia's phone just as Aaron sat upright.

"Uh... guys. They finished the paternity test."

"What? That was fast..." Dave slowly turned his head to Aaron and he frowned. "I only agreed to it when we were at the hospital."

"I hadn't ordered one..." Aaron muttered and he looked at the screen holding

Penelope who was smiling sheepishly.

"Does it matter who did what? Or who had the FBI database cross blood samples between you and Reid... okay, I'll stop talking now." Penelope moved sheepishly back from her camera for a moment.

The team looked at Rossi, waiting for his to shout but instead he sat up straighter and he started to speak rather calmly. "Well... what does it say?" he asked.

* * *

Bailey say in the dark mumbling things to himself even _he_ was unsure of. Quiet words of encouragement in a situation he knew the end to.

He wasn't sure how long Spencer had been gone. He had heard screaming downstairs sometime after William's car had left and come back. It had been quiet for hours since then. Bailey would like to have thought it was days since but the sun had gone down and was on its way back up when William entered again.

Bailey who had started to drift off with the help of his mumbles jolted upright. He tried to rub at his eyes which were blurry with sleep but his arms refused to budge.

Bailey stared at William as the man approached. He expected him to be grinning but instead William was pale, his mouth a thin line of grimness.

Bailey tried to speak but his words croaked out and he swallowed quickly, flinching when William drew near.

Finally, Bailey found his words. "What did you do to him?" he asked, his voice weak and raspy. He glanced at the spot where Spencer had been and William followed the gaze. His eyes stayed there for a moment and Bailey looked at the older man with a frown.

"He's been taken care of," William muttered.

Bailey had known this before William had even entered the room but despite this he felt his fists clenched with rage.

"He was your son!" Bailey snapped, his voice croaking harshly. He cleared his throat as William looked back at him. "How could you kill your _own_ son?"

"He wasn't really my son," William said and his voice shocked Bailey out of his anger. It was so quiet and vague that Bailey wasn't sure this was the same man who had dragged Spencer out many hours earlier with a lethal grin on his face.

William looked Bailey up and down.

"I need to get another before I dispose of you," he grumbled, more to himself than to Bailey.

The names of many of the other kidnapped boys came to Bailey's mind and he glared up at William. "Good luck," he said.

William finally smiled then. His pale lips cracked upward slightly. "I don't need any luck," he said. "You're all as weak as you were back then."

William was about to walk away when Bailey recalled what Spencer had said to him and it was his turn to smile. "I'm sure you'll need all the luck you can get with the FBI closing in," he said, his voice growing stronger. He coughed again and grinned wider as William turned his head back toward him. "Your son told me all about his career. You must be proud to have an FBI agent as a son."

If William hadn't been pale before he certainly was now.

Bailey continued. "And as soon as they identify him as your son and find where he's been staying, they'll come here. His whole workforce. A team of FBI agents at your doorstep."

William stared back at Bailey as the young man chuckled to himself. Williams's breath was shaky all of a sudden and he glanced for the door.

"How longs it been now? They probably found him a while ago." Bailey pressed his lips together and looked over at the sun shining through the window. "Oh I'd say they're on their way here now."

William wanted to argue, wanted to smirk and reveal his actual plan but... he hadn't thought about Spencer being an FBI agent. The FBI were _already_ here, he knew that from the news reports and the talk around his office. They were already treating his recent attacks as a kickstart back into the cold case of 86. William looked blankly down at Bailey who was still smiling to himself. The kid was probably right, they'd be here to ask him questions before long regarding his dead son... and... William shook his head, pressing his palms against his eyes. He knew he was inexperienced but this was just sloppy.

"Whatcha gonna do now?" Bailey asked with a cocky smirk.

William pulled one hand away from his eye and looked toward the door. The FBI would be right on his trail. He didn't have time for this kid anymore.

William turned on his heel and yanked open the attic door.

"DIANA!"

* * *

It wasn't Dave who stormed out the conference room.

It was Aaron.

"Hotch!" Morgan was on his feet and hurrying after his unit-chief. The rest of the team were still in shock. Rossi was slumped down in his seat, his elbows balancing on his thighs while he smiled broadly into his hand.

He had to call Erin. He had to tell her he was Reid's father... that they were his real parent. She needed to know their son was alive... that he'd been with them all along. Rossi snorted slightly into his palm and tears sparkled in his eyes. Erin had always said that Spencer was around them, that she felt it. Dave humoured her spiritual ideas but he never thought she'd be right; that they had been working alongside their own son for years.

"Hotch?"

Dave looked up to see his team on their feet, looking out through the windows. Dave sniffed and lifted his head from his hand. He laughed as he wiped his eyes.

Meanwhile, Morgan had caught up to Aaron and was pulling him back.

"Where are you going!?"

Hotch stopped to glare back at Derek. "Reid's dad. You're right," he said darkly. "And I'm going to kill him."

Aaron yanked his arm from Derek and he turned away again.

"I can't let you do that."

Aaron grit his teeth and turned around. He was surprised to see Emily and JJ there too and Rossi a little way back, shaking his head to himself and smiling.

Aaron focused on Derek who looked just as angry as him. "This isn't your fight, you can't understand but I have to do this."

"I understand plenty," Derek said and he pulled his gun from its holster. "I'm not going to stop you. I'll hold the bastard down for you if you need me to. But you're not going alone."

Aaron didn't smile but he nodded at Derek.

"Uh... I'm not sure-" JJ started but Derek and Aaron were already hurrying out the front doors. She turned to Emily who was starting after them.

"Come on."

* * *

Dave watched his team leave, JJ grabbing some vests before she too was out the door.

"What's going on there?"

Dave turned and saw Penelope's anxious face looking back at him from the laptop. He smiled and retook his chair in front of her.

"I think they've gone to check Reid's d-_ William Reid's _house."

Garcia nodded and she looked awkward for a moment before she said, "I'm sorry. I should've waited for you-"

"Stop."

"I... but... Sir?"

Rossi smiled warmly and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I should call Erin."

Penelope's eyes grew wide and she nodded quickly. "Of course, right...Yea, sorry."

Rossi chuckled and felt tears come to his eyes again. "Penelope..." he paused as a watery smile possessed his lips. "Thank you."

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**It got a bit soppy at the end there but next chapter will be pretty cool (I hope.)**

**Please let me know what you thought it the reviews. I usually reply to all reviews so if you have questions just leave them there.**

**See you soon, stay safe.**


	16. Hiding Secrets

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thanks to hellomynameisv, fishtrek, Cherubim, California Drifter, pallyndrome, Val Yurena, Ash59, and Lady Lunera for reviewing.**

**This is early because I wanted to be productive this week. That doesn't mean Friday's update is off the table, I should have chapter 17 to you by Friday too.**

**Thanks for reading, keep reviewing.**

**Enjoy.**

"Spence has been here the whole time?"

JJ looked up at the house and glanced across at Emily who shut off the engine. She grimaced.

"Exactly the sort of distance an unsub would work from," Emily muttered and she unbuckled. She saw Morgan and Hotch already out of their car and she hurried after them, stopping them at the gate.

"Stop," she said as Aaron nudged the gate, his gun grimly in his grip.

"Prentiss, I will have you stand down."

He opened the gate but Emily shut it just as quickly, forcing Aaron to turn toward her.

"What-"

"We have no warrent. If you two go storming in there and arrest him now you could lose the case at court. He's a lawyer, remember."

Aaron's frown eased a little and he slowly holstered his gun.

"Good," said Emily and she shot morgan a glare until he too had put away his gun. "Right. We have hardly any evidence so we're just going to knock and ask a few questions."

"Em, do you realise what this guy's done?" Morgan said and Emily gave a vehement nod.

"I know exactly what he's done." She glanced at Aaron with sympathy in her eyes. "But our team is already too connected to this case. You Hotch, Rossi and Spencer... they can use all of this against us in court. We can't be driven by anger right now."

JJ was nodding along to Emily. "If we want to catch this guy we have to do it right," she added.

Aaron sighed deeply. He picked his gaze up from the floor and found Emily and JJ watching him imploringly.

"Okay," he said and he stepped back from the gate. "Prentiss, take the lead. We'll be right behind you."

Aaron knew that if anyone opened that door that he recognised he wouldn't be able to hold back. He motioned Morgan to go next before following, taking calming breaths as he scanned the area. The front yard was well-kept, freshly mowed and there were some flowers bordering the house. Aaron took the first step up the porch and stopped on the second as Emily and Morgan stood in front of the door. JJ stood opposite Aaron but she was also looking at the house, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Emily knocked and Aaron sucked in a breath and held it.

"Mr Reid?" she called. She left their usual statement of 'this is the FBI.' A guy like this would run.

They waited but nothing happened. Emily knocked again and called louder. She tried calling for Mrs. Reid but the house stayed silent. Emily knocked again but Morgan was already pushing her out of the way.

"Derek, stop!"

"He's probably hiding in there, move, Emily."

Morgan raised his foot but Emily moved in his way.

"Morgan, do you want to lose this case! We have no jurisdiction!"

"I don't care. Move," said Morgan and he aimed his foot again.

Emily hastily moved when I looked like Morgan would kick her and she leaned against the door handle. It opened and Emily nearly fell into the hallway.

"Oh..." Morgan dropped his foot and looked back at the others. "It was open," he said with a shrug and Emily rolled her eyes.

"Come on," she muttered, pulling her gun out and stepping inside.

Morgan followed, his gun poised as he stepped around the corner and into the front room. Emily went in to the kitchen.

"Clear!"

"Clear in here too. Mr. Reid!"

Aaron walked over the threshold and paused in the hallway. He glance down at the wooden floorboards, a long rug had been placed in front of the door. It looked out of place, as if it was moved right up to the door from its original place. The corner was slightly lifted and Aaron scowled down at it. Emily and Morgan returned before Aaron could reach down and move the rug and they led the way upstairs.

"I'll wait here," Aaron said to JJ who had been waiting for him to follow. JJ looked concerned for a moment.

"I'm just going to look around," he said and JJ, though looking no less concerned, nodded and started upstairs. Emily found Spencer's room and after a quick check she walked to his bedside table. There was a photo of him and his 'parents' there. Only Spencer was smiling in the photo, it was only a closed lip smile but he looked the exact opposite of the two adults sat behind him, their mouths thin lines. The man, Spencer's 'father,' had his hand on Spencer's shoulder and Emily could see the tight grip of his bony fingers and she shuddered. She nearly yelled when the door banged open behind her. She turned and saw Derek in the doorway.

"Anything?" he asked, glancing around the room himself.

"No. I think this is Spencer's room."

Derek's nose crinkled in disgust. "No wonder he hated coming here, this room just screams abuse" Derek shook his head and turned into hallway. "Something smells as well," he murmured as Emily followed.

"It's clear up here," JJ said, coming out of the master bedroom. They turned to the final door at the end of the hall.

"Attic," Emily muttered and Morgan nodded, walking toward it. He found it unlocked and he pulled it open and shone his flashlight inside, his gun also ready.

A narrow staircase looked back out at him and Morgan sighed. "Anyone wanna go first?" he said with a smirk and Emily gave him a hard push. "Alright. Stray close."

He lead the way up until they got to another door. There was a key inside the lock and Morgan gave it a twist.

"Open it, Derek," Emily mumbled.

Morgan twisted the handle and, lifting his gun, he stepped inside.

"Jesus..."

Emily hurried up after Morgan who had lowered his gun. She followed his gaze and her own gun hand fell to her side.

"Is that-?" JJ whispered but the man across the room answered for her.

"Please tell me you're cops," the young man croaked. He shifted and groaned as the chains around his hands shook.

"Bailey?" Emily said and Bailey nodded weakly.

The three agents exchanged a grim look between them. That was the last piece of evidence they needed. William Reid was their unsub. Emily made her way over to Bailey and she examined the chains holding him up.

Bailey started to talk then without looking at any of them. "My names Bailey M-Macdonald. I was kidnapped by t-this guy w-who kidnapped me when I was seven* a-and he did it again. He killed another guy an-and Wally and he wants to keep going and-"

"Shhh," Emily said and she knelt down to calm Bailey. Morgan walked over too and started picking the lock on Bailey's other hand.

"We know," Emily said. "We've been investigating both cases. We've been looking for you."

Bailey smiled sadly.

"I'm going to go tell Hotch," said JJ and she turned to go back down the stairs.

"JJ," Morgan said and JJ stopped and poked her head back into the room. "Contact the precinct. We need CSI here."

JJ gave them the thumbs up before rushing down the stairs.

Morgan went back to the chains as Bailey let his head fall back.

"Did you find Spencer?"

Morgan frowned, pausing in trying to work the chains free. "How do you know about him?"

Bailey blinked furiously and then he smiled, looking Morgan up and down. "Did you work with him?"

Morgan and Emily exchanged a curious look. "Yes," Morgan said, frowning again at Bailey.

"I knew you'd be here," Bailey mumbled and he smiled to himself. "He told me about you guys." Bailey's smile fell and he looked away. "I tried to stop his dad... I didn't think he could... 'cus Spencer was his son an' all."

Bailey sighed and shook his head. "He's evil..."

"Where did he go?" Emily asked just as she managed to release one of Bailey's arms. It flopped to his side and Bailey sighed with relief and started bending his stiff fingers.

"I warned them you'd be coming. He w-was talking about getting another of us and I said the FBI would be after him and he just ran. H-he took the lady with him."

"Diana," Derek said and Bailey nodded.

"Yea... yea, that was her."

Morgan unlocked the last chain holding Bailey's other arm up and it fell heavily to the floor. "Thanks," he muttered, rubbing his wrists shakily.

Morgan turned to Emily. "One of us needs to be with Aaron at all times. William could easily go after him next," he said. Emily nodded.

* * *

JJ ran down the last flight of stairs and found Aaron still in the hall. He had pulled the rug by the door up and was crouched over the spot where it had been.

"Hotch," JJ said breathlessly, pointing back up the stairs. Aaron raised his head as JJ took in a few ragged breaths. "Bailey," she said. "We found Bailey."

Aaron's eyes grew wide. "Alive?" he asked and JJ nodded. Aaron let out a breath of relief and his gaze fell back to the floor, staring at the wood thoughtfully.

"Thank god," he mumbled.

It was then JJ noticed what he was doing. "Hotch?"

Aaron looked up again and then down at the rug... and then at the floorboards he'd been examining.

"Is that... is that what I think it is?"

Aaron pressed his fingers into the damp wood. A large strain marred the floorboards, turning the honey-brown wood even darker. Aaron raised his fingers and looked at the dirty-brown liquid on his fingertips.

"It's blood," he muttered and then he looked up at JJ. "I think it's probably Spencer's."

* * *

Rossi stood outside of Spencer's hospital room, looking in on his son. He still hadn't called Erin. He didn't know what to say to her.

'_Hey, honey, you know our dead son, Spencer? Well, he's not dead anymore.'_

Dave shook his head but he couldn't help smiling. He looked back at his son.

Since he was _now_ immediate family- and Rossi made sure the doctors knew that as soon as he'd he walked in- he was given all the personal information the doctors had. They'd told him Spencer had gotten stronger and Dave could see that from the cannula under Spencer's nose rather than the ventilator. They'd been kinder too, sympathetic, something Dave was used to since he'd become a bereaved father, but it felt good this time, because this time his son was _going_ to get better.

Dave turned his phone off, trying not to think about Erin as he pushed the door open. He paused at the foot of Spencer's bed and looked the young man over. He was looking much healthier, his skin having some colour to it instead of the deathly pale he'd been before. There was a rosy tinge to Spencer's cheeks which stood out almost as much as the warm bruises around his eyes.

Rossi stepped around the bed and smiled as he got a closer look at his son. _Those are my eyes, _he thought and he reached up to wipe quickly at his cheeks where tears were waiting. His hair was from Erin, those curls and unruly waves were the same that Erin straightened from her own hair each morning. And his nose, probably Erin's too.

Dave took a seat beside his son and continued to look at him. He could see the three-year-old boy he'd lost so long ago within his young colleagues features.

Dave watched Spencer for quite some time, attributing his different features to what Dave remembered of his son. He kept wiping at his eyes and smiling, imagining how different their lives would be now.

Rossi was still tangling with the idea of calling Erin. He was working out the right words to say.

"Rossi?"

Dave's head shot up at the sound of the croaky voice and to his amazement Spencer was blinking back at him, a small frown creasing his brows.

As Dave looked into Spencer's eyes he saw his own brown irises reflected in his son's.

He wanted to say so much but he couldn't work a word past his lips. His chest was tight and all he could do was gape at his son.

Spencer wet his lips and blinked slowly, looking around the room as he did. His hand drifted down to his abdomen, where, beneath the blankets and gown lay heavy bandaging. Rossi was stammering when Spencer squinted at him.

"M'dad... Rossi, M-my dad," Spencer whispered.

"It's okay," Rossi said finally, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and reached out, taking Spencer's hand. "We're handling it."

Spencer stared at Rossi for a moment and he leaned back, blinking furiously. He squeezed Rossi's hand back but he didn't speak.

Dave watched him quietly. He wasn't just going to have to tell Erin that Spencer was their son. He would have to tell Spencer too.

* * *

**_April 1st 1986- three weeks before the kid ain't of Spencer Rossi_**

"Papa!"

Rossi dropped his bag when Spencer jumped at him. He had barely shut the door behind him.

"Hey, kiddo." Dave chuckled fondly as he lifted Spencer into his arms and wrapped him up in a hug. Without releasing his son, Dave picked up his bag from the floor and hung it and his coat by the door.

Spencer pulled back from Dave's neck so he could look at him before he exclaimed, "we saw you on TV, daddy!"

Dave paused and he raised an eyebrow. "Did you?" he asked sheepishly, looking over Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer nodded and Erin stepped out from the kitchen, her arms folded over her floral blouse and her expression pinched and angry.

"Yea and Uncle Jase'! A-and we-"

Rossi cut Spencer off by putting his hand over his mouth. He smiled nervously at his wife who was glaring back at him.

"Angel-" he started but Erin had already opened her mouth to argue.

"Stop. Don't sweet talk me right now, David. You promised."

Dave sighed and he put Spencer down, avoiding the tiny hands grabbing back up at him as he straightened. The small boy frowned and he grabbed onto his dad's leg. "Erin, I'm sorry. I only went to see Jason and he... we got caught up."

Erin rolled her eyes and turned, walking back into the kitchen, Dave followed with Spencer hurrying after, hanging onto his father's leg again when he stopped.

Dave looked down at him and smiled quickly before reaching out for Erin.

"You do this too much. You say you're done, no more BAU, then I see you on the TV. Your son saw you!"

"I thought you were good, daddy," Spencer whispered and it only triggered a pointed look from Erin.

"He asked my advice on a case. They're handing it to a different FBI team anyway." Dave glanced down at Spencer who grinned back hesitantly. "How much did he hear?"

Erin glanced at Spencer too and she smiled weakly back at him. "I don't think he listened, he just saw you and Jason and that was exciting enough."

Dave sighed and nodded. "Good," he mumbled. He hadn't wanted to talk to the reporters but Jason had stopped for one question and the camera was turned on them both.

"You have to stop this though, Dave. Before we had Spencer you said that was it. You were going to focus on Spencer and _I_ would work on my job. Because I know what will happen, you'll get hooked again and Spencer-" Erin stopped and they both glanced down at Spencer who must have realised they were talking seriously because he was holding his hands behind his back.

Erin looked back up at Dave slowly. "I never got to meet my father and yours wasn't a great role-model. I just want him to have both of us."

Dave didn't speak, he stepped forward instead and pulled Erin into a hug. "I won't meet him at work anymore," Dave said quietly and he felt Erin nod.

Erin pulled back and wiped at her eyes before Spencer saw her again. "Come on," she said and she took Spencer's hand. "Let's show daddy what you made today."

Dave laughed when Spencer grabbed his hand and gave it a hard tug. He allowed himself to be pulled away and he tried not to think of the four murdered boys Jason had told him about. He pushed aside the names of the other missing children. Sawyer Jones, Joe Roberts, Bailey Macdonald...

Rossi forced a smile on his face and focused on his own son.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think in the reviews.**

**Stay safe.**


	17. Gaurd Slip

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thank you to California Drifter, R Leaf, fishtrek, UnDeanifiedMadness, and Cherubim22 for reviewing the last chapter. I know it was early but I was excited.**

**Please keep reviewing. It really helps motivate me.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

"Spence!" JJ let out a sigh when she saw her best friend sat up, smiling. She hurried around the bed, stepping in front of Rossi and hugging Spencer.

"Hey," Spencer croaked and a blush spread underneath the tubes feeding oxygen through his nose.

JJ shook her head and laughed, rubbing a finger under her eye. "God, I was so worried about you," she said, her voice sounding faraway.

Spencer gave a toothy grin, the extent of which thankfully didn't show the one his father had removed. "Sorry." He hid the wince the smile has elicited. His cheeks hurt, and so did his mouth... and his arms too. In fact, Spencer was sure there wasn't a single part of his body that didn't ache or feel unnaturally heavy.

"Don't apologise."

Spencer looked up and saw Aaron in the doorway. He was smiling too and Spencer felt the corners of his mouth rise again despite the pain.

Morgan stepped around Aaron and walked urgently to the other side of the bed. He nodded at Rossi who was trying to hide the fact that he'd also been crying. Spencer was too busy trying to hold his beaming smile in to notice how bloodshot all their eyes were.

"You're not looking so hot, pretty boy," said Derek. He could've given himself an Oscar for underplaying the situation despite the fact he'd been having a mental crisis ever since finding out Spencer was hurt.

"I don't feel it either," Spencer said and he smiled again when Emily walked in.

"Hey, handsome."

"Hi."

Spencer tried to lift his hand to wave but all he managed was a weak jerk of his hand and he dropped it quickly.

Spencer frowned lightly and he glanced at Rossi.

"What are you guys all doing here anyway?" he asked, his voice croaking. He blamed whatever they'd stuck down his throat during surgery.

"You want us gone already?" Morgan said and he laughed when Spencer started to stutter out an excuse. "I'm joking, kid. And we've got the case, remember? I told you about it the other day."

Spencer's scowled again and he nodded his head slowly. "Yea, I remember... but why are you _here_? You should be on the case."

The team went silent, and Emily and Aaron looked over at Dave who shook his head without looking at him.

"Spencer there's-"

"We have to come and see you when you end up in the hospital," Emily said and she nudged past Aaron, shooting him a look that told him to keep quiet.

Morgan looked at Rossi and decided to go with it. "Yea, Garcia wouldn't let us go on without making sure her boy genius was okay."

He messed with Spencer's hair and the younger agent gave an annoyed grumble but he smiled as he reached up and weakly brushed his hair back.

His smile soon fell when he remembered why he was there. He looked across at Morgan with a troubled expression. "M-my dad?" he asked, and he didn't need to say more, Morgan's smile also vanished.

"We're looking for him."

Aaron's ringtone started going off and he stepped outside to take it as Emily and Morgan watched him wearily. Morgan sighed and focused on Spencer again. He'd nearly lost him... this young-man who he saw as a brother in every way but blood. Derek wouldn't ever admit it, but he'd been terrified.

Rossi watched his son as Morgan started running his mouth. He smiled as Spencer interacted slowly with the team. Now he was awake Rossi could truly see the similarities between himself and Spencer. The realisation both amazed and scared him and Rossi hadn't been able to totally confront it.

He was worried that Spencer wouldn't accept him. He was worried William Reid had brainwashed his son. Sure, Reid had always been a good kid but what if he hadn't looked deep enough. The thought made Dave shudder.

He hadn't raised this young-man, why should he take responsibility now? Especially if Spencer wasn't prepared to see him as his real father.

Aaron came back in as Morgan started to tease Spencer's lack of muscle.

"Leave him alone, Derek," JJ snapped and Morgan playfully patted Spencer's shoulder.

"He knows I'm joking."

Aaron cleared his throat and they all looked at him, except Spencer who couldn't hold back a yawn.

"That was the sheriff," said Aaron. "He wants to discuss something with me." He waited for the team to respond, half-expecting them to start cursing the sheriff and insisting they stay.

"I'll come with you," Morgan said and he stood up from his chair and started towards the door.

"No," Aaron said. He stared at Morgan for a moment and saw raw determination in the face that looked back. "You take Emily and go to the precinct," he said.

"You sure?" Morgan asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Aaron nodded.

Dave stood up, glancing at Spencer and sighing. He turned to Aaron but the unit chief had already left, the door clicking back into place behind him. "Oh," he muttered. He turned to Morgan who had already pulling out his keys. "I'll come to the station with the two of you," he said.

Morgan scoffed and Dave shot him a look, causing Morgan to shrug defensively. "Thought you'd be staying here."

Dave pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. "I've got to call Erin..." he paused. The thought of explaining this all to his wife filled him with dread. He looked at Spencer who was watching them with tired eyes. "I've got to update her."

"Okay. Coming Prentiss?"

"Yea." Emily patted Spencer's leg, jolting him awake. He blinked slowly and smiled at Emily. "See you later, handsome. Duty calls." She winked and Spencer closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"Yea," he mumbled, leaning back.

Emily laughed. "You should probably go to sleep."

Spencer didn't nod but he gave a half-smile.

JJ squeezed Spencer's hand as she waved her team out. She looked back at Spencer who was finally overcome by sleep. "I'll keep you company," she whispered.

* * *

Aaron stared at the road ahead. In the corner of his eye his gas light was flashing red but he was trying to ignore it. He was gripping the steering wheel angrily.

Why hadn't Rossi told Spencer?

Aaron shook his head in frustration. His fingernails clawed at the soft rubber around the wheel. "He needs to know," he muttered to himself, glancing down at the flashing light again.

He still couldn't believe that the boy he thought he'd left to die in that basement was alive. It didn't clear Aaron's conscience but for the first time in a long time things in his life were starting to make sense. But Rossi... _his denial... _Aaron grit his teeth. _He's a stubborn fool. First, Reid 'isn't' his sonand then when he finally acknowledges it he continues to keep Spencer in the dark._

The flashing red light blinded Aaron briefly when someone cut him off and he slammed his hand on the horn. He glared at the red warning and let out an annoyed huff.

Aaron looked out the window on his side. A gas station loomed up ahead and he flicked his indicators on.

There weren't any cars in the gas station as he pulled in. The lights inside the station were on and he could see a young man leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when Aaron stopped the car and he made an attempt to straighten while continuing to go through his phone.

Aaron didn't pay the attendant much thought as he got out of the car. He fumbled with his wallet and the cards inside but as he pulled the right one out it fell straight through his fingers.

"Damn it..." Aaron stood for a moment, looking down at the card and he forced himself to take a deep breath. His anger was slowly rubbing into fear and he glanced around. _Come on, _he thought, shaking his hands out. He quickly pushed away the emerging thoughts and images his traitorous mind had sprung on him each night, claiming and infecting the few hours he had to rest.

He saw the blank face of the man who had kidnapped him in 1986. He could see the dismembered flesh of the boys he met in the basement. And he could never get the sound of Spencer's screams from his mind. He had never actually heard Spencer screaming during the fire but dark thoughts filled in the blanks for him and he not only cold hear the screams but since he was seventeen he could also see the child burn before his eyes in his dreams.

Aaron took another steadying breath, closing his eyes as he did. He smiled then and shook his head, silently scolding himself for letting himself get so anxious.

Aaron bent down, still smiling and picked up his card, his hand no longer shaking. As he was about to stand back up something under his car flashed. Aaron scowled and dipped his head lower to get a better look. Something flashed red again and Aaron went to his knees and reached his hand toward the light. Despite his best efforts his hands were shaking again.

"What...?" Aaron grasped the tiny bulb wedged behind one of his wheels. It illuminated and warmed the skin on his finger tips. He gave a tug and the bulb gave way. There was a small device attached to it and Aaron pulled his hand out to see what it was.

"The hell..." Aaron muttered as he prodded the device. A cold sensation ran straight down Aaron and he stared numbly at the device.

He got up suddenly and dropped the device. Without thinking he slammed his heel into it. The bulb crunched and the light immediately fizzled out against the shattered glass. Aaron gaped down at the mess of tiny filaments, solder, and wire.

His eyes shot up and looked around sharply, while his hands reached down for his gun.

Someone was tracking him.

* * *

Spencer woke up to find JJ still at his side. He looked toward the door and frowned softly when he vaguely recalled the rest of his team leaving. They were stupid if they thought he hadn't noticed the nervous fidgets and odd looks. He was a profiler after all.

Rossi was especially strange. Spencer hadn't been able to stay awake when Rossi had been the only one there but he was sure he could remember Dave talking softly to him. It had been so comforting that Spencer hadn't managed to pull himself back to consciousness until a doctor checked on him and then again when the team arrived.

He remembered the way Rossi's gentle palms had squeezed at his arms and hand, a constant reminder of his presence.

Spencer knee he was out of it at each of these encounters but there was definitely something going on, aside from the fact that his father was...

Spencer gasped and pulled himself upright.

JJ noticed the movement and she edged forward in her chair.

"Hey? Are you in pain?"

Spencer rubbed at his eyes, pushing aside the thought of the madman that his father had become. He peeked at JJ through his fingers before he leaned back into the monotony of pillows and let out a sigh.

"You okay, Spence? I can call a nurse-"

"What's wrong with everyone?"

Spencer dropped his hands from his face and squinted at JJ under the bright lights. JJ met his gaze with a sheepish look of her own. Spencer frowned as he tried to profile her.

"Huh?"

"Everyone's on edge. There's something you're not telling me."

"Oh uh..." JJ smiled nervously before continuing. "We re-opened the 86 case. You know Rossi and Hotch-"

Spencer was already waving her off and shaking his head. "Morgan told me all of that. There's something else though."

"Spence..."

Spencer tilted his head a little and JJ had to turn her head from the sad look he was giving her. "You know something... i-if it's about my dad then I can't help you. I had no idea he was like this. I never th-thought he could do this to me or Bailey... wait... Bailey!"

Spencer reaches urgently for JJ, his face twisting with worry.

"We have him. He's safe," said JJ and Spencer nearly choked as a breath of relief fell from his lips.

"Good..." he whispered. "Is that why you guys are being weird? Because of my dad?" he asked. Spencer paused thoughtfully. There was something his dad had said... something that didn't make sense. '_They all think you're dead anyway.' _Who was 'they?' His team?

"-Shouldn't tell you this..."

Spencer raised his head, realising he had missed what JJ said. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

JJ opened her mouth and stammered for a moment. "Rossi sh-sho-should tell you this," she said, stumbling over her words and grimacing when Spencer frowned.

"Rossi? Why Rossi?"

"It's hard to explain-"

"Just tell me, JJ. Please."

"Maybe Hotch should be here too, they know better that me."

Spencer's frown deepened and he shifted forward on the bed, wincing as the stitches in his side tugged at his inflamed skin. "Know what?" he asked.

"Oh god-"

"Jennifer! Please just tell me."

JJ took a deep breath in and her gaze flickered between Spencer and the door. "I-" She bit her lip hard and Spencer was about to interrupt again when she blurted, "Rossi's your dad!"

Spencer's mouth fell open and he gaped at JJ who had already decided the door was better to look at.

"That's..." Spencer started but he didn't know what to say.

"Not possible?" JJ asked and she scoffed. "Yea, we know."

"How... how did you get to that conclusion?" Spencer suddenly found himself chuckling breathlessly as he shook his head. He reached up and ran a shaky hand through his hair, his IV line tickling his cheek. His other hand was twisting in the bedsheets and he looked at JJ.

Her lips were tightly pursed as she thought of what to say next and how to say it. "Your 'dad," JJ said and she paused to air quote. "Attacked you just like he did to the other victims. When you first came in here we didn't even know it was you. We-"

JJ sniffed and wiped at her nose. She couldn't bring herself to look at Spencer who was watching her intently.

"When I realised it was you I didn't know what to do... Everyone was saying you were one of the unsub's victims a-and that you had to be one of the boys from 1986."

JJ stopped and took some breaths to try and steady her rapid heart rate. Spencer continued watching her with a lost expression.

"I was three then, JJ.

JJ choked out a laugh and said, "yea. I know... the only victim who was that young was Spencer Rossi."

"No... that's... that's ridiculous, JJ," said Spencer but he was starting to feel a deep dread creep over him.

"Is it? Because your dad has been the unsub this _whole_ time. He left a note in your _mouth_ with Hotch's name on!"

_Oh, so that's what it said, _Spencer thought. He looked down at himself. He slowly pressed his hand against the spot his father had pushed a knife into him. His lip shook and he looked back up and he saw tears in JJ's eyes.

"Maybe..." Spencer started in a quiet voice. "He just didn't want me around anymore. H-he said it himself-" Spencer's voice was shaking and JJ stood up from her chair and grabbed his hands.

"Spence, listen to me. There was another boy, he lived upstairs with William Reid-"

Spencer managed to match JJ's gaze with his own and she continued to explain softly.

"He was nearly two years older than you. The other boys got out that night but you didn't-"

"Jen..."

"They found you down there an-and something must have happened but the child Rossi buried wasn't his son. It was your parents' real son-"

Spencer shook his head hard and JJ quickly embraced him, her palms caressing the back of his head gently. "M-my mom..." Spencer mumbled and JJ screwed her face up in response. She thought she knew Spencer's mother but this whole time she was just his kidnapper.

"Garcia crossed yours and Rossi's DNA from our system. He really is your dad. You were down in that basement too and before then you lived with Rossi and Erin."

Spencer sucked in an audibly shaky breath and he shut his eyes.

_"I'm Joe. You're pretty young, right?"_

Spencer squeezed his eyes tighter together.

"_Listen, Spencer, you watch the door, okay, Fraser's nearly busted the window."_

JJ pulled back from the hug and took one of Spencer's hands in her. His eyes were wide and wet as he stared back at her.

"Do you remember anything?" she asked.

_"Leave him alone! He's three, what are you? Sixteen?!"_

Spencer's breath hitched. When he spoke his voice was small and pitchy.

"Aaron," he said

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**

**Stay safe.**


	18. Perserveance

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)**

**Thanks to fishtrek, It's Morley To You, pallyndrome, gregmontgomery, Jesuslover123, R Leaf, and HungrySoMuch for reviewing the last chapter.**

**HungrySoMuch- First, thanks for reviewing, I loved reading your review. I feel like you might be mad at me after you read this chapter. I'll slap my hand... I'm not being kind to Aaron. I'll let you read to see what happens, no more spoilers.**

**Since I was late getting this out I thought making it longer would help you guys forgive me.**

**Let me know what you think in the reviews. You guys always seem to help motivate me, I love seeing what you have to say.**

**Anyway, Enjoy.**

* * *

Aaron got back into his car slowly. He sat for a moment and wondered whether he should get out and stomp on the device once again just to be sure it was broken. He glanced out of each window, and turned around, checking the backseats as he did, trying to convince himself the device was harmless.

The gas station attendant was looking through the window, scowling at the SUV and Aaron quickly turned back to the front. He let out a shaky breath and reached toward the steering wheel, his fingers twitching slightly. He got his hands around the cold rubber and forced himself back into the present.

He'd paid at the machine after haphazardly filling up but no other cars had arrived not until... Aaron's hands clenched the wheel tighter when an old blue car pulled in. Aaron started his engine and watched the other car settle behind him. Aaron watched, waiting for the man in the car to get out but he didn't.

Aaron reached down for his phone and pulled it out.

He inched his car forward as his finger hovered over Rossi's name in his phone. The car behind still didn't move so Aaron stepped on the gas.

He pulled out of the station and got into the right lane. He breathed heavily, glaring at the windscreen, his phone now forgotten on the seat beside him. When he got to his first set of stop-lights Aaron looked back.

Aaron felt a chill pass through him, making his fingers tremble on the steering wheel. Behind him was the same blue car.

Aaron couldn't make out the face through the window but just the silhouette made him shiver.

Aaron turned back to the red light, his breath coming out in harsh puffs of air. He reached for his phone just as the lights went green, and he quickly turned, going a different way than he had planned. With his phone still in his hand, juggling between it and the steering wheel, Aaron wrenched his neck back and found the blue car was still following him.

Aaron grappled with his phone and he stepped harder on the gas peddle. He pressed the call button, glancing down from the road as his car sped up.

"Fuck..." he hissed when he missed the call button again. When he finally managed to hit it he looked up and quickly turned the wheel to go down another random road. Aaron pressed speaker and threw the phone onto the passenger seat beside him so he could get both hands back on the wheel.

He took a quick look behind. The car was closer. Its nose was right up the back of Aaron's SUV and as Aaron took another panicked glance in his side mirror he thought he saw the silhouette smile, its eyes and mouth breaking free from the shadows.

"Rossi?" Aaron called out, keeping his eyes on the road. The phone rang again and again and Aaron looked back at the approaching car. "Dave! Come on, please," he whispered, looking piteously down at the phone.

The ringing stopped and Aaron grit his teeth, praying he hadn't gone to answer-phone.

"Hotch?"

Aaron unclenched his teeth and glanced down at the phone again. He stared for a moment, looking back at the road occasionally.

"Hotch? Is that you? Rossi went to get coffee. It's-"

"Spencer?" Aaron mumbled and there was quiet 'um hm,' in return.

Aaron looked at his mirror again, the car wasn't slowing down. He took a deep breath and pushed his foot hard onto the gas.

"Aaron?"

Spencer's voice sounded worried. It also sounded strained and Aaron winced at the thought of Spencer sitting in his hospital bed as he weakly spoke to Aaron.

"Listen," Aaron said and he took another violent turn, looking quickly back to see if the car had followed. It had, and it was so reckless in its turn that it had nearly crashed into a parked car. Aaron reached down and grabbed the phone, holding it tightly against the steering wheel. "The unsub is following my car."

"Hotch-"

"Just listen, Spencer." Aaron looked back into the mirror and he nearly cried out in terror. He pulled his stinging eyes away. "You need to call the team. I don't know where I am but if you have Garcia track my phone you'll find me. I was at the gas station on Broadstreet, that's where he followed me from."

Aaron looked into his mirror again.

"I can do that," Spencer said, his voice shaky but full of the strength that Aaron forgot to give him credit for.

"I'll try and outrun him for as long as I can. He had a tracker on my car."

There was a pause on the phone before Spencer whispered, "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know... Spencer, find Rossi, or Morgan, get them-"

Aaron didn't see the car stopped ahead of him. He turned the wheel violently, dropping the phone under the seat and the car jerked left down a small embankment. It came to a sudden and jolting stop when a tree sprung up its way.

* * *

**_An Hour Earlier_**

Spencer had somehow managed to sleep despite his shock. It was a restless sleep, he kept seeing William behind his closed eyelids, and he was always smiling. And Spencer followed him. Throughout his dream, he would follow after the man he thought was his dad. William led him to a large door with several kinds of locks below the handle. He snapped each one open and pushed the door so it swung inward. William's grin grew and he pointed down the steps of what Spencer thought must have been a basement. Something about it felt familiar.

Spencer craned his neck, shuffling toward the threshold and looking down. At first, he saw nothing, and then Rossi walked out of the shadows. He had tear-tracks running down his dirty face and he reached a hand up towards Spencer.

Spencer stared at him. "Dad?" he whispered.

"Spencer!" Rossi yelled, stretching his hand up, his fingers straining to reach. "Oh god, it's you, it's you! My boy!"

Spencer took a step closer and reached out for Rossi. "Grab my hand, Rossi."

Spencer leaned past the doorway and William laughed and shoved him.

Spencer jolted awake just as he fell into the first step.

"Spencer?"

He took a deep breath while he stared ahead at the door to his room. He watched it, licking his dry lips and waiting for William to walk through the door with a sly grin on his face.

"Spencer!"

A hand pulled Spencer back against the pillows and he looked across from him. Reality swarmed back over him when he saw Rossi looking at him strangely.

"You okay, kid?"

Spencer looked into his eyes before finally blinking and swallowing deeply. "Yea," he said, a little breathlessly.

Rossi smiled and Spencer stared at the kindly expression and the soft lines around his eyes and mouth. Spencer let out another breath of relief as the image of William Reid's smile faded from his mind.

"H-how long have you been here?" he asked, swallowing hard again when his throat made a croaky sound. He glanced at the hand Rossi had left on his shoulder.

Dave followed his gaze and pulled his hand away with a chuckle. "Only a few hours," Dave said. He smiled again and Spencer felt a pang of longing in his stomach. Dave must have recognised the look because he reached back and rubbed his neck.

"Spencer," he started and he sighed.

"W-why don't y-you get a coffee?" Spencer said quickly, looking at the empty cup on the rolling table.

Dave looked at the cup and then back at Spencer, his eyes narrowed. Spencer wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously, knowing he was being profiled.

"Alright," Dave said and he stood up and took the coffee cup. "But we're talking when I'm back."

Spencer nodded and watched Dave leave.

Dave was going to tell him. Spencer could feel it. The tension in the room, as if the older agent was building himself up to tell him.

Spencer was about to construct his own plan of action when Dave's phone started to ring.

Spencer looked over at the chair Rossi had been sat in and where his jacket still lay and saw the pocket vibrate.

Spencer watched it for a moment, glancing at the door to see if Rossi was back, not that he'd be able to get a coffee and be back in that time.

On the third ring, Spencer heaved himself toward the chair and grabbed the jacket. He pulled out the phone and gave it a pleading look but it didn't stop ringing.

It lit up once in his hand and Spencer saw Aaron's name on the screen.

He didn't need anymore convincing; he answered it right away.

Hotch?" he said, holding the phone to his ear with both hands. He could hear Aaron's ragged breathing distantly through the phone and he adjusted his grip.

"Hotch? Is that you? Rossi went to get coffee. It's-"

"Spencer?"

Spencer nodded and blushed when he realised Aaron couldn't see it. "Mmm Hmm."

Aaron went quiet again and Spencer frowned. "Aaron?" he called, his voice croaking as his concern grew.

"Listen," Aaron said and Spencer heard him take a deep breath. "The unsub is following my car."

"Hotch-"

"Just listen, Spencer."

Spencer shut his mouth and looked up at the door, hoping Rossi would come in to help.

"You need to call the team. I don't know where I am but if you have Garcia track my phone you'll find me. I was at the gas station on Broadstreet, that's where he followed me from."

"I can do that," Spencer said and he cringed a little at how shaky his voice came out.

"I'll try and outrun him for as long as I can. He had a tracker on my car."

Spenecr wasn't sure what to say. He licked his lips nervously and glanced again at the door as he whispered the only right thing he could think of, "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know... Spencer, find Rossi, or Morgan, get them-"

Aaron's voice cut off suddenly and Spencer scowled and pushed the phone closer to his ear. There was a loud crunching sound and Spencer couldn't bring himself to draw a breath in.

"Hotch?" he whispered and he gasped when anther loud bang came from the phone. "Hotch! What happened!"

Spencer stared at the closed hospital door as Aaron failed to answer his calls. "Come on, Hotch," he hissed, pressing the phone closer to his mouth. After the crash the phone had gone silent except for a quiet clicking sound.

The door Spencer was watching opened and he lunged forward far too quickly for the sake of his injuries. "Rossi," he rasped, holding the phone up at the older agent. Dave quickly put his coffee on the table and took the phone from Spencer.

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

"Hotch," Spencer said and he swallowed hard and pointed at the phone. "I-I don't know... I don't know what happened. He-he won't answer."

Rossi put the phone to his ear and he frowned. "Aaron? Are you there?"

Spencer watched him, his eyes were wide and his fingers shook.

"Aaron? Spencer, what is that sound?"

Spencer swallowed thickly again. "I think Aaron crashed. He said William Reid was following him." Spencer looked up at Dave and shrank away from him when he saw the dark look in his eyes.

"Don't you think I should've known that first! Aaron! Aaron, can you hear me!"

"I-I'm sorry I-"

Dave wrenched the phone from his ear and started pressing more buttons.

Spencer's lip trembled as he stared at Rossi.

"Morgan? Get Garcia to track Hotch's phone. I'll meet you at the station- I don't know, something bad."

Dave pushed his phone into his back pocket and checked that he still had his gun in his hostler. His hand brushed against the cool metal and his brow burrowed down. He was going to kill this bastard.

He looked back up and saw his son trembling in the large white hospital bed. Rossi's gaze softened and he pulled his hand from his gun.

"Spencer," he said. "I'm sorry."

Spenecr looked away. He couldn't bring himself to say that he knew. Maybe Rossi was still denying their paternal connection . "You have to go," Spencer mumbled and he glanced at the chair across from him and saw Dave's jacket hung over the arm.

"I'll be back. As soon as I know Aaron is safe."

Spencer nodded and turned slowly back to Dave. "I know," he said. "Make sure he's okay."

Dave lingered for a moment, wondering what to say but in the end he just nodded and walked out the door, leaving Spencer in shock.

William was after Hotch. Spencer looked at the spot where Dave had been and he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for this new reign of terror his 'dad' had unleashed. If he'd been a better profiler none of this would have happened. Spencer snorted and wiped his eyes. If he hadn't denied the abuse he could have prevented more than just his own misery.

Spencer lay in bed for a moment thinking. He thought hard about Dave and Aaron and... and the basement and...

Spencer shut his eyes and held his breath, knowing that if he breathed he'd start sobbing.

He remembered the basement and a time before it. Small snippets of memories fluttered across his closed eyelids and he grit his teeth to keep the despairing sounds in.

* * *

_"Daddy!"_

_"Jason, hear me out. No, you weren't listening- Fine."_

_Spencer frowned and looked back down the steps of the slide. Another boy had started to climb up so Spencer had no choice but to slide down. Once at the bottom he put his hands on his hips and glared at his father who was sat on a bench talking to uncle Jason. It was meant to be their special day but uncle Jase had still found them._

_Spencer pouted before taking a deep breath and yelling, "daddy!"_

_David Rossi glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "Hey, kiddo."_

_"You missed me on the slide!" Spencer said angrily, and his voice squeaked._

_Jason Gideon tilted his head back and grinned. "I saw you, kid," he said and Spencer frowned._

_"No, you didn't," he retorted and Dave laughed._

_"Don't try and con that kid, he always knows," he said and he turned away again. "Anyway, what I was trying to say is that your geographical profile is all wrong."_

_Jason scoffed. "Oh, yea?"_

_Spencer huffed angrily and turned away from his father. If they were going to ignore him, well, he'd just go as far away from them as he could. He started marching to the end of the park where the swings were._

_When he got there he tried to get on one of the big ones and ended up falling onto his backside._

_"Oh, look at you, Crash. You could've hurt yourself." _

_Spencer sat up quickly as a woman stood up from the bench on the other side of the park fence. She had a long, cream dress on and one of the straps had fallen from her bony shoulders. Her thick blonde hair rested down her back in tangled waves but she smiled at Spencer and he smiled back._

_"Hi," he said quietly and the woman smiled again._

_"What are you doing on your own, Crash?" she asked. _

_Spencer got up and he frowned thoughtfully. He walked closer until he could touch the fence and he blinked up at the woman. "My name's not crash," he said._

_"Oh." The woman smiled sweetly and she bent down. "What is your name?"_

_"Spencer."_

_"Thats a lovely name. My name is Diana." She paused and looked around hesitantly. She smiled again when she looked back at Spencer. "I'm alone too, Spencer. Would you mind keeping me company?"_

_Spencer looked at the woman as she continued to smile. He glanced back at where his father was and found the man hadn't even realised he'd gone._

_"Okay," Spencer said and he looked up brightly at the woman._

_Spencer wasn't sure what happened next but he never saw his daddy again. He'd heard someone yelling as Diana carried him to her car where a man was waiting in the driver's seat. Spencer remembered that he was crying when he was forced into the back._

_ He remembered someone screaming his name before the door was shut._

Another memory bombarded Spencer and when he next opened his eyes he was back in the basement.

_"Ethan's dead!"_

_Spencer shrank away from the fight. He picked up the half eaten slice of bread off the floor and nibbled the edge. Diana- the lady from upstairs- had thrown a stale bag of bread downstairs earlier and even after separating it equally between them, no-one had finished their share. Spencer hated to say it but the dirty fruit meat-man had given them the week before had been better than the bread._

_Thomas slammed his shoulder into the door again while Joe tried to pull him away._

_"He's not dead!" Thomas shouted down at them. He smacked his fist against the heavy door again and screamed. _

_"Leave it, Tom!" Joe snapped and he pulled the boy back, making him stumble down a few steps._

_"Don't you care!" Thomas yelled. Sam helped Joe pull Thomas down the rest of the way and Spencer shuffled back from his spot as Thomas landed on the floor._

_The boy stood back up and started to charge for the stairs but Sam, being bigger and older blocked his way._

_"He'll come back," Sam said, shoving Thomas back. "He'll come back and take you."_

_"I don't care! We have to help Ethan."_

_"Ethans gone," Joe said as he panted. "It's too late, alright. Just shut up."_

_Thomas stared up at the two older boys and his eyes welled with tears. "I wanna go home," he mumbled. _

_"Grow up."_

_Joe glared across the room. "Shut up, Wally," he snapped._

_Thomas got up and marched to a dark corner and slunk down. He covered his face and Spencer glanced over to see his shoulders shake._

_Spencer looked up at the large door, keeping them all locked down in the basement. He could remember how much Ethan had screamed. The sound echoed in his head._

* * *

"Sir?"

Spencer gasped and opened his eyes. He was back in the hospital room again. He looked down at where his hands were clenched into the crisp hospital sheets and he let the whiteness of them blind his mind for a moment, quieting the screams he'd relived a moment before.

"Mr. Reid?"

Spencer looked up and found a nurse at his side, her hands hovering over him hesitantly. Her brow was creased in concern and she looked back at him with confused blue eyes.

Spencer licked his lips and smiled, the motion pulling at the cracks in his skin. "M'fine," he said and the nurse let her hands fall gentle away from him. Spencer nodded. "I'm good I'm... uh, great, actually. Um, could you tell me about another patient here? Uh, Bailey MacDonald?"

The nurse frowned and Spencer sat up quickly, wincing a little.

"I'm an FBI agent... SSA Dr. Spencer-" he paused thoughtfully and arched his eyebrows.

The nurse jumped at the knowledge, not noticing Spencer's hesitation and she said, "Oh right, yes of course, sorry. I forgot you were on the case." She nodded sincerely and took a step from the bed. "Last I heard about Mr. MacDonald was that he was being treated for minor abrasions and malnourishment..." she hesitated before her eyes lit up. "Oh, and dehydration," she added in a spritely voice.

"Thanks," Spencer said and he shifted up again, trying to hide his grimace. The nurse nearly fell forward to help him but he smiled at her and muttered that he was fine.

"Where are the other agents?" The nurse glanced around the room to make her point that he was alone.

Spencer raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth as he too looked around the room as if he'd forgotten his isolation. "They have a lead," he said. "O-on the case I mean."

"Oh... that's exciting." There was silence for a moment and the nurse took a step back and schooled her enthusiastic expression.

"Is there anything more I can help you with, agent... uh..." She looked up at Spencer, her face twisted sheepishly.

"Rossi," he said without thinking and the nurse smiled brightly.

"Agent Rossi," she said, correcting herself. "Anything else?"

"No... I- uh, that's everything, thank you."

Spencer smiled and watched her leave the room, waiting when she glanced back for a moment.

When she finally shut the door Spencer pushed the covers back and got up.

He stretched his arm out to the chair where Rossi had been sat. Underneath it was something Spencer had been eying ever since he'd first woke up. Spencer whined in pain when he stretched out further, pulling at his still healing stitches. He pressed his hand against the pained area and reached a little further until his fingers brushed the bag and he managed to pinch the corner between them.

With a great effort, Spencer pulled himself back up on the bed, bringing the bag with him.

He sat back on his pillows for a moment, his hands lay heavily against the bag as he got his breath back. Spencer sucked in a deep breath and sat up again. He opened the bag and pulled the first thing his fingers caught out. His bloody shirt flopped out on the sheets and Spencer bundled it back in with a grimace, hastily rubbing his hands against the sheets.

Spencer winced as he peeked inside the bag and found more articles of clothing soaked in his dried blood. But passed the garments Spencer caught sight of something silver and without a moment's thought, he reached in and grasped it. He thought the team had brought it with them from his house. _The crime scene,_ Spencer reminded himself. He in no way wanted to connect himself to that place any longer.

Spencer retracted his hand from the bag, his fingers clenched shakily around the butt of his glock. When he had it under the light, Spencer sighed and righted his grip on the weapon, checking it as he did before leaving for every case. He glanced up at the door and quickly tucked the gun under his thigh. He reached back in the bag and found his wallet and credentials. With them free of the blood-hardened clothes, Spencer slung the bag to the floor.

He grabbed his glock again and with that and his other things resting safely on the bed, he twisted his body around and tugged his legs from under the covers. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. He got his legs into the cold air and slowly, he lowered them to the floor.

It was an agonisingly slow process to get his wobbly legs to hold his weight long enough for him to stand up. When he finally managed it, he grabbed onto the rolling table and held it to give his body a moment to overcome the stabbing pain in his stomach.

Spencer sucked in a breath and nodded his head, and with his teeth gritted in determination he released the table.

Spencer looked down at himself. The hospital gown swayed at his bare calves, an uncomfortable chill rising up the back of it where the string was tied loosely. Spencer looked around the room and only saw his bag of tarnished clothes and the various things his team had left him. Then he remembered Rossi's jacket. It was still where Dave had left it, draped across the chair in all its expensive navy glory. Spencer staggered forward and grabbed it. He pulled it to his chest with a soft smile. He slowly put an arm through each hole and he zipped it up over the bland hospital gown.

Spencer looked down and almost laughed when he saw that he'd basically turned the hospital gown into a skirt. He turned to the bed, giving the sheets a quick and dismissive look. He couldn't fashion anything from them. His gaze fell to the floor and the bag there. Spencer huffed and he bent down to grab the bag, holding his stomach as he did. He dropped it on the bed and pulled out his brown slacks. There were dark stains down the front where his blood had seeped but it was his only option.

Once finally changed and in more pain than he had been for a while, Spencer hobbled back to the bed and pocketed his wallet. He stared at the gun for a moment before picking it up, his whole being filled with an undaunted passion.

He was going to kill William Reid.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**Let me know what you thought in the reviews.**

**Stay safe and see you soon (hopefully Friday.)**


End file.
